On Sunday morning he told Shirin and his children he had to go on an errand but would be back in the afternoon. He expressed his affection for her and the children individually. Shirin noticed the expression of affection which was unusual for a short trip to perform some errands. She said nothing. As he drove to the National Museum he did not know if his message had reached anyone. He did not know if it had been intercepted by the Revolutionary Army. He did not know if he would be detained and tortured. He knew nothing, but he hoped. He hoped because, if the note had been intercepted, he would have been easy to identify. Authorities would have visited his home and arrested him. But that did not happen. There would be no reason for the authorities to wait until he arrived at the Museum. If the note was derailed, ignored or never delivered, then no one would arrive. At this point the probable outcome was that someone would show up. When he arrived early, he lingered over the paintings on the great wall of the museum. He had been there many times and always was impressed with the beauty that Persian artists could see in a country that was in upheaval and conflict for centuries. At noon Eris walked over to the Doshantappeh Street painting.
At the same moment that Eris was saying goodbye to his family, Mac was dressing on that late Sunday morning into his blue shirt, black tie, and his new black leather jacket. Mac felt a tinge of nervousness that was not common. This meeting with someone, as it had been planned, had all the markings of spy-craft, and he was not a spy. The message from the Agency was cryptic, but most of them were. But this was more cryptic than most. He wondered if the meeting were about something of consequence that he was not told about, or, was it really a benign meeting, or worse, was it an event the Agency didn't know anything about themselves. The last scenario was the one he thought might be the case. He would be careful. He took the trolley for the forty minute ride to the Museum. He got there early, found the painting he was to view at noon, and then went to the coffee shop inside the Museum and waited for fifteen more minutes. At a minute or two before noon, Mac headed towards the painting. Mac had never been to the Museum. He saw that it was cavernous, with high ceilings, rich polished wood walls, and hundreds, if not thousands of displays of artists and books. He also saw that it was sparsely populated with people, although it was a Sunday morning when most people did not have to work. He walked over to the painting, and alone, he looked up at it. It was a painting of a street. That was no surprise. But he also thought it was somewhat engaging, and although he knew very little about art, he knew what he liked, and he liked it. A voice behind him said, “You seem to like the painting.”
“I like the painting, but I also like my shirt, and tie and black leather jacket,” said Mac.
“And so do I,” said Eris. “I would like to go upstairs to see the displays. There is seldom anyone there, and we might take the opportunity to talk.” Eris turned and walked towards the stairs and Mac followed. Mac did not look at one display, but for two hours he sat quietly, while Eris told him of his dilemma, his mission, and the danger that the world faced. He explained his motivations to save his family from what he knew would be a war of total destruction. He considered himself the Iranian Klaus Fuchs, a scientist morally compromised by the purpose of his invention. At the end of the talk, Eris handed Mac a single sheet of paper. Mac looked at it. It had mathematical and engineering symbols and words. He did not understand any of it. Eris said, “Get this to your superiors quickly. They will understand it. The future is in your hands.” Eris got up to leave. Mac got up and put out his hand. They shook hands as Eris said, “I will leave first. You can leave in ten minutes. I know you will succeed.” Eris turned and walked towards the stairs.
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN
DHL
Mac walked into the house without the black tie. Raintree and John were about to leave for afternoon prayers. Raintree asked, “How did it go?”
“This is big. Raintree, you have to take me to the DHL Courier office. I think it is open until five on Sunday, but this has to go out tonight.”
“What is it?” asked John.
“This is it.” Raintree showed John the single sheet Eris had given to him.
“I can't understand this. What does it mean?” asked John.
“I have no idea. My contact said people upstairs would understand. It has to go out to DHL tonight. Apparently there is little time.” said Mac. “Let's go.”
Mac and Raintree left the house, and John sat alone. He decided he would go to afternoon prayers at the nearby Mosque. He had been there several times and he thought it might do him some good.
Raintree and Mac returned a couple of hours later. Raintree said he had to leave for a date and said nothing about what had gone on that afternoon. John asked Raintree about Mac's trip to the Museum.
Mac replied, “Mac said nothing on their trip to DHL except that whatever it was, it was big.”
CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT
NAMAK
Eris boarded the bus like he did every morning and found his seat in the middle of the bus. The missiles ready for launch had been transported to Namak Lake. His days were spent at Hemmatt getting the next group of missiles ready for transportation to the Namak Lake launch. He knew the time for the launch was coming up, but he had no specific date. The bus arrived at Hemmatt and the riders stepped out. One of the many armed personnel approached him along with two men in civilian clothes. The civilians looked very much like the Savak he had heard about from his father, but now they were the Iran Revolutionary Army. Same thing, different name. Eris was resigned to his death and torture as he followed the men to a building on the outskirts of the complex. When he arrived he was told to sit down. One of the civilian dressed men then told him the launch was set for the following morning and he was needed to insure that his systems were in place and operating properly. Eris had been to the launch facility at Namak Lake many times. It was near the Maranjab Caravanaseai, a five hour car trip from Hemmatt. He was told he would be taking a helicopter in about twenty minutes and to tell his family he would not be back for several days. He called Shirin and told her he had been called away for several days, that he loved her and the children. He had told the man at the Museum the dangers of what he faced and what the region faced, but nothing had happened for several weeks. There was no communication or contact. Nothing had happened and Eris was worried. He was worried that his worst fears would be realized and that he, his family, and his country would soon cease to exist.
The helicopter trip took a little over an hour. He was relieved to avoid the five hour trip he had taken many times. He was seated in the helicopter with several other workers he knew were conversant in the No Dong rocket. There was an air of silent resignation in the helicopter. They all knew what was pending for their country. As they approached for landing he could see the lone and lonely Maranjab Caravanaseai outside his window. Its blue water pool was plainly visible. It was surrounded by nothing but desert for miles. Its contribution to history was the oasis at the site that provided relief to travelers for thousands of years as they crossed the desert. The helicopter landed near a small group of buildings that housed the well camouflaged entrance to the huge underground facility. When he entered he saw the ten missiles that had been readied to be moved to the launch site and fired the next day. The No Dong did not need a large launch footprint, especially if the missiles were launched from the same site serially and not at the same time. It was easy to hide in the desert. He put on his white lab coat and immediately went to the first missile. The target for each missile had the name written on the warhead. He spent the remainder of the day confirming and resetting the coordinates in the first missile for a location he knew well, Tel Aviv. The second rocket was set for Haifa, the third for Baghdad. As he went down the line he confirmed multiple targets. His stomach shrank tight with agony.
Eris did not sleep that night at all. He could hear the preparations during the night for the next morning. During the night the first missile was moved outside to the launch platform. The next mornin
g he returned to the missiles lined up for launch and looked at the television picture of the first No Dong setting on the pad. A few minutes later he saw launch time was in ten minutes, and the clock in the lower right hand portion of the screen counted down until launch time. It was too late. Why hadn't something been done. He had put his life and his family and friends in peril to protect the world from further devastation. As the countdown clock moved to thirty seconds, everyone in the facility who he could see, gathered around the large television screen and watched the now erect No Dong missile. At five seconds he could feel the slight rumble as the engines spooled up for flight. Slowly the No Dong lifted from the launch pad. There were no shouts from the crowd. Everyone quietly returned to their tasks on the final preparations for the remaining missiles.
CHAPTER FORTY NINE
DRONE QUEEN
“Ten years ago drones were called model airplanes.”
- -Anonymous Air Force Captain
John tried to attend prayers two, and sometimes three times a day with Raintree. Many weeks ween by and no one told him when the operation would be over and he could return home. They attended Mosques in different areas of Tehran, and in the larger Mosques they attended more than once. The Mosques were all different. Some were large and colorful, some were small and claustrophobic. But the prayers were all similar and he felt comfortable attending and joining the prayers, but before and after prayer, he would look as much as he could without drawing attention to himself. He was bored with the task he had, and felt anxiety that still lingered from the earlier operations, and apprehensive of another operation. He had been trained to be a soldier, not a spy. But another operation loomed in his immediate future, and he found himself riding in a large rented sedan with Raintree early in the morning before the sun came up. Raintree told John they were going to Bushehr on the coast of the Persian Gulf which was about an eleven hour drive. Raintree had tapped John for the simple task that Raintree promised offered no danger. Farah was not available because she had to go to work, and Mac was typically unavailable for any venture out of Tehran. Raintree explained, “We are going for a pickup. I have been given exact coordinates and was told to be there at nine tonight for a pickup. I'll tell you more when we get there, but right now you don't need to know.” The drive was long on the expressway, and the terrain was barren. John drove for a while and then Raintree drove. It was a long drive, and John tried to sleep whenever Raintree was at the wheel. Night fell as they approached Bushehr. Raintree pulled off the freeway and told John to drive. John stepped out of the car and could smell the clean and brisk salt air floating in from the Persian Gulf. He walked to the driver's side as Raintree pulled out his GPS and told John he would give him directions. Raintree searched inside the car and pulled out a flashlight. He fiddled with it for a few minutes and then threw it angrily into the back seat of the car. “Damn flashlight. They're just a case for holding dead batteries.” John got in the driver's seat and drove for thirty more minutes, following the turn by turn instructions from John. They stopped at the end of a rural road. They could see no lights or indications that anyone was nearby.
“What are we waiting for?” asked John.
“A drone.”
“What is happening?” asked John.
Raintree responded, “There is going to be an event of some kind in Kashan. Kashan is about 15 miles from Namak Lake and is in the foothills west of the Lake. What kind of event?” He asked himself, and then answered himself. “I don't know. For some reason the people who tell us what to do want a drone to get a close and personal view and take scientific readings of the event. It is not good for international relations in Iran to send a Predator Drone into their sovereign territory, especially if it gets shot down. So, they use a small drone. The small drone they are sending hasn't got the range and battery life to fly to Kahan from outside the country, so we have to pick it up, transport it to a specific place near Kashan, and then leave. We don't pick it up afterward. Apparently the drone will self-destruct. Simple enough.” They waited outside the car for the drone to arrive. John could see a million stars and some shooting stars in the night sky that was moonless and dark. He understood the sky that Farah had seen as a child.
As they waited quietly in the dark Raintree asked, “How do you like our new President?”
John replied, “She seems fine. I haven't been watching too closely. I have had too many other things going on, including my sudden vacation in Iran. What do you think?”
“I think she's fairly good, especially the way she deals with the Middle East,” said Raintree.
“I guess,” said Trader.
Raintree said, “When she traveled to Europe a little while ago on some conference, a King of one of the Emirates wanted to meet with her. The King's advance people told her she would have to wear a hijab in the presence of the King. She rallied back that she would wear it if he dumped the silly hat he wore, and his white dress, and wear a white shirt with a tie and a sports jacket, slacks and penny loafers.”
“That's straightforward. What happened?” asked John.
“He went shopping at Nordstrom,” said Raintree. “And she wore a hijab. I liked it because there turned out to be some respect for both cultures, and a compromise by each in order to solve some problem. That kind of compromise dissipates hostility, I think.”
A few minutes later John heard the faint sound of something approaching from above them. They looked up and saw a four bladed quadcopter drone descending to their location, almost whisper quiet. It landed ten yards from their car. It shut down as John and Raintree approached. It was about six feet square. Raintree removed an envelope taped to the top of the body of the drone and opened it. “This gives us a location to take it to near Kashan, and instructions to fold the arms so we can fit it in the car. Let's get going. We have to have it there in eight hours. It is going to be a long night. Keep your speed under 120 kilometers. There is no tolerance for speeders on the freeways. Also, they have speed cameras.” Raintree looked at his watch, “We have to hurry, and I hope we’re not too late.” They switched off driving along the expressway while the other tried to get some sleep. They arrived at the outskirts of Kashan and turned west towards the mountains on a road as the sky began to turn blue on the horizon with the light of the rising sun. Five minutes later Raintree stopped. “We have to hurry. We only have minutes.” They unloaded the drone, extended the four arms, and almost immediately it began to power up. The drone rose slowly into the blue morning sky and hovered, not yet moving the few miles toward Namak Lake. Raintree pointed east and told John, “That is Namak Lake. I have heard a rumor that there is a rocket test site on the Haj Aighdi salt lake near Sharud, but that is 60 miles northeast of Tehran. I don't know anything about a site on Namak Lake.”
John felt a rumbling beneath his feet and then an explosion that he could hear coming from the Lake. They looked over at the lake and saw what they immediately recognized as a very large rocket slowly lifting off the ground, leaving a fiery ball of flame behind it. The rocket gained speed and left a smoking trail behind as it began to turn west towards the Mediterranean Sea. They both watched with total focus on the strange but powerful liftoff for a few minutes. As they were looking at the lake John pointed to another part of the sky. They both saw a ball of light heading almost straight down to the lake. It hit the lake and nothing happened for a moment. Then they felt the ground below them shake. At the same time the drone moved slowly towards the lake. The target area of the lake began to sink into a large depression where the ball of light had struck. Then moments later a huge explosion could be heard and the ground burst upwards and the ground continued to shake. Raintree turned to John. “That's not a bomb, John. There is something big-time going on down there at the lake. Let's get out now,” said Raintree. They jumped in the car and sped off as they saw the drone became a pinpoint in the sky as it began moving at a slow speed for the lake. As they drove toward the expressway, they felt the blast of fire from the lake as the sk
y lit up by the explosion in the morning dawn. “I hope to hell that's not nuclear. I still plan to have children.”
Eris watched the liftoff, the rumbling stopped and the quiet of the working groups continued to work on the next launch. A few moments later he felt the ground move violently. He knew something unexpected was happening. The twenty foot ceiling began to move. The ceiling and concrete walls began to break and crumble, landing on the missiles and destroying each of them. Eris felt a powerful blast on his body that pushed him violently against the crumbling walls, crushing him into eternity, and his last thoughts were, “Now my family is safe.”
CHAPTER FIFTY
RUMBLING
“I feel the earth move under my feet/ I feel the sky tumbling down”
---Carole King
The command and control center of the Israeli Air Defense Command was quiet and subdued as military clad men and woman sat with earphones, watching large video display terminals. Commander Molech Rubin listened over his headphones when he heard the report from station six. The voice was quiet and professional. “We have a sudden real time satellite visible and heat image out of Namak Lake. The footprint confidence level is eighty percent missile.”
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