Secret of the Oil: Prequel to the Donavan Chronicles

by Tom Haase

  Mary Jean said, “I am extremely glad you called me. I believe we can have a working relationship and inform one another of things as long as it is on a one-to-one basis. Since this meeting didn’t take place it is easy for me to tell you what we have.” She related to him information from the tapes recorded in Beirut. Now this Fatimah was a known entity and was definitely the enemy with the intent of detonating an atomic weapon. She had to find out more. When would they attack? Where?

  * * * *

  STRIKE TEAM ONE

  NEXT MORNING - INCIRLIK, TURKEY

  Matt checked on his men in the morning to ensure they had eaten breakfast, and then they all waited for the aircraft to arrive. He received new satellite photographs of the location and vehicles. All seemed to be the same as the day before —just twenty-four hours later. Those vehicles on the imagery could be extremely important, but as a safety measure he had requested an on-call helicopter rescue from the target area. The analysts at the National Photographic Interpretation Center had said their best guess was eight to ten people still remained at the Ayun compound location. At 1600 hours, the latest imagery showed the target area looking the same, no changes. It was six hours before the planned assault would take place.

  In a few minutes they entered the C-130, and shortly afterwards they were airborne. Onboard the aircraft, Matt once again went over the details of their attack plan at the target.

  Five hours and fifty minutes later, the red light in the back of the plane illuminated. They were ten minutes from their drop point. After one final check of their parachutes, weapons and equipment, the aircraft loadmaster opened the rear clamshell ramp to the tremendous roar of the wind. The pilot had brought the big bird down to ten thousand feet, the altitude at which they would exit the aircraft. Each team member stood up, checked the equipment of the next person to ensure safety, and stood ready. It was now 2400 hours, midnight.

  The small light in the rear of the aircraft started flashing green.

  CHAPTER 19

  AL-HANBALI’S COMPOUND

  27 OCTOBER - AYUN, SAUDI ARABIA

  Yuri had labored all day to get all the equipment and the uranium ready for transport. It was not easy for him to stop his work, which was nearly complete, put it all in boxes, and be ready to depart at 2200 hours. The two assistants had done most of the packing. He had carefully supervised the operation.

  At nine o’clock, just an hour before the scheduled departure, one of al-Hanbali’s men arrived with the vehicle in which Yuri and his equipment would travel. The man parked it just outside the building and entered the workshop to tell Yuri that Tewfik wanted to see him in the main house. Yuri put down his notes, closed the lid on his computer, and proceeded to the main house. After he left, the assistants took a short break. They were experts in short breaks.

  While Yuri was gone, Abda, one of the assistants who coveted the music on Yuri’s CD, went over to the computer, took out the CD, and replaced it with a blank one. He had never heard Yuri listen to the music on that disc. Yuri would never play the music on it before they left and everyone was in such a rush to get everything loaded onto the trailer he wouldn’t notice that it was missing. Abda put the CD on the bench next to his knapsack, and opened the drawstring to put it in the pack. Just then he heard Yuri’s voice outside the door; he slid it under the knapsack and returned to work.

  “Anything we need to do different?” asked Abda as Yuri entered the room. He moved so that Yuri was looking at him and not at the bench.

  “Nothing new for us to do. Just be ready to leave in an hour. We can start loading the trailer now. It’s just outside. Tewfik had it moved to just a few meters from the door. He wants to leave as soon as we load. Let’s get going,” Yuri said.

  The operation to move all the equipment took the better part of an hour. The pressure increased as al-Hanbali came down to urge them to make greater speed. At last they secured the tarp with a rope and the trailer was ready for the road.

  “Grab your personal stuff right now and get out to the trucks,” al-Hanbali ordered.

  They all picked up the packs they had prepared. Abda lifted his knapsack, put it over his shoulder, and headed for the door. He did not dare pick up the CD from the tabletop as al-Hanbali was watching all their movements to ensure quick compliance with his order to get to the trucks. The disk remained on the tabletop, unobserved by the others as they left the building. Abda regretted that he would not be able to listen to the Russian music on his CD player, doubting if Yuri would even miss one disc.

  ****

  The convoy was assembled now and ready for departure. Tewfik signaled Yuri to come to his vehicle and ride with him. The remaining two dark green Land Rovers followed his white Land Rover. The middle SUV had the trailer attached. That way if anything happened to it there was a vehicle behind it to render any needed assistance.

  The vehicles started toward the main road. It was exactly ten o’clock. They would travel for over two hours in darkness to their new destination. Al-Hanbali had ordered them not to use headlights on the back roads he had selected for their journey. There was a full moon that illuminated the desert landscape. That would be sufficient for driving. By not using lights on the vehicle al-Hanbali was determined to keep any prying eyes away and make it difficult to identify who or what was traveling the roadways. In al-Hanbali’s mind this reduced their vulnerability.

  They had been on the road with no headlights for about twenty minutes when the horn of the last Land Rover in the convoy began to beep. Tewfik stopped his vehicle, got out, and walked back to see what had happened. Arriving, he saw the front right tire was bent at an angle, with the top of the tire leaning in and the bottom sticking out. In the dark, the vehicle had hit a rut the others missed, twisted the front axle, and stopped.

  “There is no way this vehicle can proceed to the next place. Return to the main house, get one of the other vehicles, and rejoin us,” al-Hanbali commanded.

  “It will take us well over an hour to get back to the house and to get one of the new vehicles. Can we wait there and join you in the morning in daylight?” asked the driver of the ill-fated Land Rover.

  “Yes, do that. There are three of you, so bring two other vehicles up so that we have extra transportation in case we need them,” al-Hanbali ordered.

  He returned to the front Land Rover and gestured for the driver to proceed with extreme caution, hoping to avoid a similar fate as they traveled under blackout conditions. He did not like having his unit split up like this, especially now, in the final phase of his attack plans. The six remaining members proceeded toward their destination.

  They arrived at the new house and Yuri started to unload his trailer into the workshop. It was almost identical to the previous one. The assistants put everything in the same locations, ready to start work in the morning.

  CHAPTER 20

  ASSAULT ON AL-HANBALI’S COMPOUND

  MIDNIGHT – 27 OCTOBER

  Matt would be the last person to exit the airplane. When the green light came on, it became a command indicating the pilot's order for them to exit his aircraft. Matt started moving towards the door behind the other four members of his team. The jumpers exited the aircraft by walking off the rear ramp, falling and entering into the slipstream that rushed passed the aircraft at one hundred twenty knots.

  As he exited the aircraft, Matt tucked his head down and tightly closed his hands around his reserve chute. The feeling was one similar to the old circus ride, where the rotating rockets would throw you out against the side of the chair by centrifugal force. Then the parachute popped open, and his body rocked back underneath the canopy. These latest model parachutes gave a jumper the ability to steer to any point within a certain radius, even though that point might be twenty or thirty miles away. The parachutist could descend with no noise, reaching the ground far from where he exited the aircraft. At night, this was a silent and excellent way of entering undetected into an area.

  Due to the quick exit by all me
mbers of the team, they were in a tight group no more than one hundred meters apart with their parachutes deployed and gliding towards the target area. It took almost three minutes for them to descend to the desert floor. In complete silence, they landed, rolled up their parachutes, dug a small hole and buried them. The team assembled around Matt. He got his bearings, confirmed by his GPS, and with hand signals, he pointed towards the target, and they moved off.

  As they approached the objective, Greg and Lucien were in the lead going towards the main house, followed by Matt and Bridget. All observed silence. Peter went off to their left towards the external building located some twenty meters down the hill from the main house. All weapons were ready to fire at any target that appeared.

  Each member separated himself from the nearest by about ten to fifteen feet, to ensure that one single burst from an enemy weapon would not hit two of them. As they approached the house, it became apparent that the outside area around the house had no security. They swept the area using their night vision goggles and were surprised at the lack of any external security. There was only one light showing from inside of the house.

  Matt signaled Lucien and Bridget to go around to the right side of the main building, while he and Gary circled to the left. When he arrived within ten feet of the lighted window, Matt took off his night vision goggles. He moved up to the side of the house, slowly slid over to the window, and peeked inside.

  Two men with AK-47 weapons braced against their legs sat at a table. One man with a pistol in his belt was just entering the room, followed by an elderly lady carrying a tray. Matt turned back, held up his hand to indicate that there were three inside and signaled Bridget and Lucien to take the main door. He whispered to Gary to go under the window and come up on the other side. When they were in position, he gave the signal for Bridget and Lucien to go into the main door, while simultaneously he and Gary slammed their weapons through the window to get clear shots at the terrorists inside.

  "Freeze! Don't move!" shouted Matt in Arabic through the window. For a second, no one moved. The sound of Bridget and Gary breaking through the front door brought the terrorists out of their momentary freeze. They saw themselves trapped; instead of surrendering, they went for their weapons.

  "Don't move," were the last words that Matt got out of his mouth before the AK-47 came up pointing at the window where he stood. Lucien opened fire and hit the man in the chest. The other terrorist, who had remained seated, turned around towards the door as Bridget came into the room. The weapon by his leg came up. He sprayed a burst from his AK-47 even before getting it into a firing position. Bridget fired two rounds directly into the man's head with her silenced 9 mm. Then she pointed the weapon at the third terrorist.

  "Freeze, asshole," Bridget said in English.

  The old lady with the tea was screaming. She had dropped the tea tray and was wailing, loud enough to almost cover the sounds of the weapons. The tray hitting the floor caused Bridget to look at her. It was just enough for the third terrorist, who had remained standing, to try and run towards the woman and escape behind her through the door. From where Matt stood, the lady did not block his ability to fire at the target. He shot two rounds into the man's back. The old woman continued screaming, throwing her hands about wildly, and then slowly retreated through the door where the terrorist had tried to escape.

  ****

  Sgt. Peter O’Leary had gone to the single building and found the door open and no one there. He turned on the light. He guessed the occupants had only recently departed, as the room was clean. Somebody had recently been using the room; otherwise, the dust from the desert would have come in and covered everything in the outbuilding.

  Just then, he heard the gunfire from the main house. He ran towards the sound, knowing his team members’ weapons were silenced. Since there were no terrorists obvious in the building he had left, they had to be at the main building. Approaching the house, he saw that there was no one on the outside. He slowed his steps until he saw the captain walking around in the lighted room. The other team members were just regrouping after searching the entire house.

  "Did you find anything in the outbuilding?" Matt asked.

  "No one there. I need to go back now to check and see if there's any radiation in the building. I’ll use that small Geiger counter that we brought along with us."

  “I’ll go with you,” Matt said.

  They returned to the building and Peter used the radiation machine. After walking around the outside of the building and getting no readings, he went inside. Peter did find a hot spot behind the lead wall.

  “Hey, Captain. There was definitely radioactive material here. It’s gone. The bastards left before we got here”

  Matt was disappointed. They had not gotten here in time. It always seemed to be the same main problem. “We aren’t getting to the targets in time to get these bastards,” said Matt in a low methodical tone.

  It was time to go and join the rest of the team. As Peter walked towards the door, he saw a CD lying on the countertop. He picked it up, turned off the light, and headed back toward the house.

  At the house, the team was dealing with the three dead terrorists, checking them for any form of identification or anything else that might provide some intelligence. For a few minutes, in the heat of the combat, they had forgotten about the harmless old woman. Matt ordered Gary to go find her.

  Gary went looking for the woman and found her in the kitchen on the telephone. She turned and stared at him in sheer terror. After all, these men had killed all of al-Hanbali’s men a few minutes ago. Gary rushed for the phone and grabbed it out of her hand before she could say another word and listened.

  "Get out of the house. Go and hide. I don't want them to find anything. Are you still there?" an Arabic voice asked as Gary put his ear to the receiver.

  "Yeah we’re still hear, motherfucker, and were coming to get your ass," he said. The phone went dead.

  “Hey Captain, the old bag was talking on the phone. All I heard was somebody telling her to get out of house. Then, whoever it was realized she was not on the phone and hung up.”

  "Good. The NSA boys might be able to trace that phone. If they can, it will put us a step ahead of them. They must realize that someone was after them to have evacuated this place. We know they were all here when we took off, so it looks like they only just left,” Bridget said.

  "We haven’t got them yet," said Matt, "but now we put pressure on them and the bastards will have to make moves to keep ahead of us. The faster we make them move, the more likely it is they’ll make a mistake."

  The old lady came in, shouting at them in Arabic, “You, you Americans killed my son in Baghdad. Mohammed was a good boy. He sent me money while he was gone and then you killed him. I hate you.” She spat at them.

  Bridget took her into an adjoining room and sat her in a chair. The woman was obviously still grieving for her lost son. They would have to hold her until the DIA debriefing team arrived.

  CHAPTER 21

  AL-HANBALI’S NEW HIDEOUT

  1:24 A.M. – 28 OCTOBER

  At twenty minutes after midnight, Tewfik heard the landline telephone ring. It was unusual for the phone to ring at this location since the only person who knew the number was his brother, who was with him, and the housekeeper, who should be sleeping at this hour.

  When al-Hanbali picked up the phone, he heard the scream of his housekeeper from the house in Ayun. He held the receiver away from his ear as the piercing wail of the old woman emanated from the phone. Then he heard her shout.

  “They kill everybody.”

  “Stop! Calm down. What happened?” Tewfik said.

  “Men in black. They shot your three men. They will kill me.”

  “Do they wear uniforms? Do they speak Arabic?” Tewfik asked.

  “Yes. Yes, they speak Arabic and also English.”

  "Get out of the house. Go and hide. I don't want them to find anything. Are you still there?" Tewfik realized somethi
ng was wrong; the crying was no longer audible.

  Then he heard the American voice. It had to be the same ones who attacked them in Beirut. Tewfik didn’t listen to what was said. He slammed down the phone.

  ****

  While Tewfik talked on the phone, thousands of miles away at a listening site in Germany, a sleepy specialist four at an Army Security Agency (ASA) site heard his computer beeping an alarm. During the time the team was traveling to Saudi Arabia on the C-130, the NSA located the phone number for the site the team was going to hit. Most people think the phone in their home that has a wire attached to it that the sound of their voices travels over that medium. Sometimes it does, but quite often, it does not. In cases where there is a distance between the users of the phone company service, the sound of your voice travels over microwave channels, which travel through the air and are subject to being intercepted by anyone with the right equipment. The ASA, working with the NSA, has that equipment.

  These sophisticated monitoring devices picked up the transmission from al-Hanbali’s main house to his new location.

  ****

  “How did they find us? How? How?” he whispered, not able to believe this could happen to him. The others looked at him in astonishment. They waited in silence for al-Hanbali to give them his guidance.