Secret of the Oil: Prequel to the Donavan Chronicles

by Tom Haase

When the wheels of the plane touched down in Riyadh, al-Hanbali awoke. Now real problems needed his total concentration. One key member, Kemal, was surely dead. Fortunately, the Iranian had set in motion his part of the operation before the meeting. The material he promised should arrive today. Al-Hanbali must oversee the quick completion of his plan to deprive the Western world of its oil supply.

  After the five-hour drive from Riyadh to Ayun, the small city to the northwest of the capital in central Saudi Arabia, he arrived at a compound he called his home.

  “Hello, Basam.” Al-Hanbali greeted his younger brother on entering the house. Al-Hanbali deeply respected Basam for his dedication to their cause.

  “Tewfik, your phone call didn’t tell us much. What happened in Beirut?” Basam asked.

  “Somehow, we were betrayed. We’ll have to check everybody; someone must have talked. Whoever attacked us knew about the meeting. Most likely, it was one of Faisal’s or Kemal’s thugs.” Al-Hanbali walked out of the house and headed for a secluded sandy brown building about fifty meters down the hill from the main house. The main structure stood atop a knoll about five meters higher than the surrounding terrain. The house had its own water supply and a basement with food and an arsenal of various types of weapons.

  Tewfik had built this structure away from the main house for the explicit purpose of housing the atomic material. He placed the building in a small ravine on a gentle slope leading downhill from the house and away from the view of any visitors. Even this late, Yuri should be working on the weapon’s construction. After considering all the events in Beirut, he knew for sure that Yuri did not betray them, since he had not known about the Beirut meeting. He entered the building and greeted Yuri with a warm smile and a firm handshake. Yuri had arrived there the day after he met with him in Moscow. His younger brother, Basam, met Yuri and transported him to their house. The material from Iran had arrived that morning.

  “Yuri, what is the progress on the weapon? Is there anything you need?”

  "Tewfik, glad to see you have gotten back safely. But to the subject at hand, as I told you, this laboratory of yours is not exactly the type of place we need to construct this weapon. But to answer your question, yes, I can.”

  Al-Hanbali’s greatest concern now vaporized. “I need to get the bomb built and delivered to the target within twelve days. Any longer will put the whole plan in danger as many people would get involved, and someone might talk. Can you have it ready for me by then?”

  Yuri walked around the table and pointed at the diagrams on the table.

  “I am doing the best I can, but we are not in a Russian nuclear facility for constructing and assembling weapons. Some of the highly sophisticated equipment they use is not here. But I assure what we do have will suffice and I’ll work around the other problems."

  “Do you believe the material we acquired in the canister is of sufficient quality and quantity for our purposes?"

  "I think it will be, but you must now tell me what you are really after and the target. This canister that you procured contains fourteen kilos of enriched uranium, U-235. We only need about eight for the size bomb that I am planning. There are some other things that I’ll need. Maybe if I explain a little it will help you understand the whole process." Yuri went around the table, opened up a notebook and put it in front of al-Hanbali to show him the design of the fusion bomb he was working on.

  “The real power behind the bomb arises from the coming together of two equal masses with force. The masses are the enriched uranium. Natural uranium, the element U-238, is a heavy metal, heavier than gold, malleable like gold, and it has some of the largest atoms of any natural element. It has more neutrons and protons, and that has an important bearing on its capacity to create an explosion.

  “The Iranians took U-238 to make the isotope U-235,” Yuri continued, “which has atoms that can be split, and therefore usable in making atomic bombs. We will have two spheres that contain a specific amount of U-235. We will keep the two apart until an explosion rapidly pushes them together. Moreover, the exact speed with which these two masses must come together, along with the desired compression ratio, are secrets closely controlled by the governments. My knowledge of those secrets is really why you are paying me.” He smiled at Tewfik.

  Tewfik looked at Yuri with a face that showed complete resignation to the fact that he did not fully comprehend it all.

  “Go on,” Tewfik said.

  “Then, when these two masses collide, that will cause the atomic explosion. This progression does not take place arithmetically but geometrically. All this happens in one millionth of a second. The minimum amount to start a chain reaction, called super critical mass, is the primary element in my design.” Yuri went over to where the coffee was standing and poured a cup. He signaled to al-Hanbali to see if he wanted one. Al-Hanbali did not.

  "Using the equipment here in the workshop, I have been able to separate the amount of uranium we need for a detonation giving us fifty kilotons of explosive power. Now I need you to procure for us ten kilos of C4 explosive and detonators. To initiate the explosion I need a remote detonating device such as a wireless radio transmitter and receiver or a radio-controlled servo would suffice. Either system must be set so that its motion pushes a plunger into the detonator. A cell phone can be rigged to initiate the entire process.”

  "That should be no problem. I’ll order my men to get that for you tomorrow," said al-Hanbali. “By the way, what is the explosive force of the weapon you are making? I don’t understand all that you have said, so put it in simple terms for me. What will we get from the explosion?”

  “The explosive force of an atom bomb can range from one kiloton, which equals one thousand tons of TNT, to as high as many megatons, which is enough to wipe out New York City and everything within thirty miles. We can’t make our weapon have that kind of power because of the size limitations you specified,” Yuri said.

  “What can I expect from our explosion?”

  "The explosion you will set off should create a hole about a mile wide and destroy everything on the surface within ten miles. If you want to be safe, you will need to be further than that from ground zero. Will that give you what you want?”

  Al-Hanbali nodded his approval.

  “You said you wanted it to be small in size. So, I am making a container that is the size of a large case, which I can line with lead just as an additional safety precaution. I think the entire cylinder will be approximately fourteen inches long and eight inches across and should not weigh more than twenty kilos. Maybe twenty-five altogether." Yuri flipped to the next page in a notebook. It showed a drawing of what he visualized the product would look like.

  Al-Hanbali felt elated. This was going to work. He had the right material at the right place at the right time to make all of this come together. It looked as if there would even be some material left over.

  Based on the remaining quantity of uranium, he now imagined using it to sink another weapon into the depths of the Saudi oil reserves and detonate it. The contamination of these fields with radiation would drive the western economies to the brink, maybe even beyond the brink, of economic catastrophe.

  “Yuri, can you make two bombs from the enriched material you have? I can get any materials you might need to do that.”

  “Of course. It might take a day or two longer and there is the possibility of three bombs depending on what you want to use them for. But, you hired me for only one.”

  “Then I see that the possibility of more money is now driving you. Okay. Let’s agree on an additional five million.”

  “Done,” said Yuri.

  While Yuri continued to work on the development of the bomb, al-Hanbali decided that he must continue his plans for delivery of the weapons. As an afterthought, he knew that he had to call Faisal in Beirut to see if they knew anything about who was responsible for the ambush, or even if Faisal was still alive. Faisal, in his estimation, was definitely not someone he could entirely trust, espec
ially after the events in Beirut, which certainly indicated a betrayal by someone.

  It was a few minutes after ten and his tri-band phone rang.

  * * * *

  "Hello," said al-Hanbali, answering the phone.

  "Tewfik, my brother, it is Faisal. I am calling to see if you are all right."

  "Yes. We are now safely at home. I do not know what happened, but I think we have a major problem. Somebody talked.” Al-Hanbali waited for a response or a denial from Faisal. None came.

  “It would not be wise to have another meeting. I’ll inform you when we're ready to move the item. I have the location selected and our timetable is two weeks. May I suggest you do a thorough examination of your security?" Al-Hanbali said this trying to contain the bitterness in his voice.

  "Tewfik, my organization did not have a leak. The Americans hit us; I followed them to their embassy. There is no doubt that they knew about the meeting. I can hear the insinuation in your voice, and I deeply resent it. I’ll check my men, and I encourage you to do the same on your part. We must trust one another, and we must accomplish our goal," Faisal said with emphasis.

  "Faisal, I swear by Allah, the Merciful, the Just, that I did not mean to insult you. The Americans seem to know too much. I must hurry and get this accomplished before something else happens. I’ll speak to you in five days to tell you where and when we are moving the item. Allah be with you."

  "And with you, my brother."

  * * * *

  Faisal closed the phone. He felt a little better after the conversation with Tewfik al-Hanbali. He would be able to accomplish his plans within the same period. After putting the phone in his pocket, he returned to their room, where the others were waiting.

  To end the briefing with his group, he declared, “We will go to Saudi Arabia and get the weapon.” They all cheered, and Faisal continued. "I personally volunteer to take this weapon into the heart of Israel."

  CHAPTER 16

  OFFICE OF BRIGADIER GENERAL BERGERMEYER

  0630 HOURS – THE MORNING AFTER THE RAID IN BEIRUT

  Every word from the conversation at the Beirut restaurant entered a tracking computer at the NSA headquarters. They possessed the number of al-Hanbali’s phone and a directive had been placed into their computer to monitor the number. In just minutes, the computer passed the information to DIA. They now knew the location of Tewfik al-Hanbali.

  Brigadier Mary Jean Bergermeyer, forty-five years of age and totally dedicated to her military job, was enjoying her morning coffee at 0630 hours at the center while she read the intercepts on her screen with obvious delight. Taking a short break, she removed her gold rim reading glasses. Reaching up to her forehead, she brushed her thick reddish hair back with a hand devoid of any rings. Then she picked up the phone and called Lieutenant Commander Glenwood McDonald, who had recently moved from the Command Center at the Pentagon to her center for anti-terrorist operations.

  “Glenwood, we have a location on Tewfik al-Hanbali. Get a message to Matt Higgins to call me ASAP.”

  “I was just talking to him at the base in Cyprus. He sounded a bit down. I think that attempted takedown last night didn’t go well. I’ll get back to him and tell him to call you. General, after the firefight, maybe he’s not up to continuing the mission,” Glenwood said.

  Mary Jean smiled at that comment, realizing what he was up to. Glenwood was a good officer in some areas, but she was not so sure of his command abilities.

  “By the way, General, I learned from my contacts over at State that the ambassador in Lebanon took some real grief from the Secretary of State. Seems the DCM over there made a phone call to cover her ass. Odds are the President won’t remove him, since he is a strong supporter and no publicity emanated from the team’s actions,” Glenwood said.

  “Okay. Glad to hear that. Come up after you talk to Matt.” She hung up the phone. Rolling her eyes, she wondered if Matt could get the bastards this time. More importantly, she tried to envisage what actions on her part would facilitate the mission. First, she had to jack him up a little to get him going and to chastise him for conducting an OK Corral shootout in downtown Beirut.

  Her secretary entered and informed her that Captain Higgins was on the secure phone. After exchanging hellos, she got to the point just as Glenwood entered her office.

  “Captain Higgins, what the hell did you have in mind when you took on the terrorists in the middle of Beirut in a firefight? The only thing saving your butt is that no one knows who did it, so you’re still in position to go after them. I still want you to get them.”

  “General, sorry about the firefight, but there was no other choice at the time. If we didn’t take them on they would have split and I had no way of following them out of country. I made a decision to take out as many as we could. You can hold me accountable, but that was what I deemed we had to do.”

  “Well, you didn’t get it done and they still got away. Okay, you took out one of the leaders and that was good, but in the future, no more gun battles in the middle of cities. You got away with that one, never again. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am. There won’t be.”

  Mary Jean looked at Glenwood as she spoke to Matt and it seemed to her he was enjoying the ass chewing too much. She made a mental note for the future.

  “Matt, I have a location for the leader of the terrorists. He is in Ayun, Saudi Arabia. Get your team ready to move and I’ll get imagery to you in four hours. I’ll have transport from your location to Incirlik, Turkey tomorrow morning. Lieutenant Commander McDonald will get the images to you and act as liaison officer for the operation. Any questions?” the general concluded.

  “No, ma’am. We will be ready to go in the morning and I’ll get us outfitted to operate in that area.”

  Mary Jean hung up and looked at Glenwood. “You make sure they have all they need to get this done. Get them satellite imagery and have the boys at NPIC (the National Photographic Interpretation Center) evaluate the images. Last thing; get the request for the air transportation over to the air liaison officer. We have to move fast.”

  No one on the team knew that back in Washington Glenwood McDonald took his time in delivering the request for the aircraft to carry the team to Riyadh. Way too much time.

  * * * *

  Eight time zones to the east of Washington, at the RAF base in Cyprus, Matt met with his team on their impending move. They would have to wait for overhead satellite imagery of Ayun and the photo interpreter’s analysis of the terrain and the building before final plans were completed. He would finalize his movement plan and submit it for approval after receiving that information from headquarters.

  Matt pulled out a map of Saudi Arabia as he talked, pointing out the location of the town of Ayun. He spoke to the assembled team, “Listen up. We are going to move to Saudi Arabia. To a town called Ayun. We have a fix on the location of Tewfik al-Hanbali. We either go in by chopper or we parachute in, depending on the analysis of the imagery and availability of assets.”

  “Are we going after the bomb?” asked Lucien, “I’m a little concerned about the radiation thing. I had heard about it damaging our sex life.”

  “You didn’t have one before this mission, so why worry about it now?” ribbed Gary.

  Most smiled at the release of the tension in the air for the upcoming mission.

  “Forget about those rumors. We are just soldiers engaging the enemy in this war. We are going to go and get these bastards, and make sure there is no one to tell about it when it is over. These terrorists could be taking an atomic weapon to New York or Washington for all we know. We can’t let that happen. And we can’t have reporters or a congressional committee asking all kind of stupid questions that are designed to make them look good.” Matt finished with a wave of his hand, indicating for them to disperse until he called them again.

  Four hours later, Matt had the analysis with the photos from the national photographic interpretation center. The analysts at the NSA had fixed the location
of the tri-band cell phone and the image boys had determined the geographic coordinates of the buildings in that area. Luckily, the buildings were out of the town by about two kilometers.

  The team assembled for their preliminary operations order.

  “Okay. Everyone gather around the table. There are three buildings on the compound. It appears there is a central house, a small shed just to the rear of the main building and another building about fifty meters down a hill from the main house.”

  Matt stood next to the table with a pointer. “Here is where a garage forms part of the main house, with four bays. Five vehicles were in evidence at the time of the photo and they all appear to be SUV’s.

  “There could be others in the garage not visible to the satellite. There don’t appear to be any fences, light poles, or barriers of any kind to block the approach road that connects to the main road about five hundred meters in front of the house.” Matt put the pointer down and asked if there were any questions.

  “Do we have any idea if those assholes have any electronic security?” asked Peter O’Leary.

  “Not for sure. It looks as if they think their isolated position in the middle of Saudi is all the security they need,” Matt replied.

  "If we go in by chopper in the middle of the night they are going to hear us coming for miles," Bridget observed.

  "That's right,” Matt said, “I have asked for a C-130 to transport us from here to Incirlik, Turkey, from there we will fly to Riyadh. That will take us very close to the town and we can do our parachute drop from about five miles away at ten thousand feet. That way they’ll not hear nor notice anything on the ground. With the right wind we should be able to land less than two klicks from the compound."

  "I'm sure glad we did that refresher parachute training a couple weeks ago," Gary said. "We can use the wind speed from the Riyadh airport ATIS to calculate our jump position. The pilot can give us the ground wind speed from that report. We can use that in conjunction with our GPS to give us a good approximation that will put us on the ground in a good position."