Flash Point

by James W. Huston

  “I assumed he was well hidden.”

  “No one is undiscoverable.”

  “Efraim, I need to hear back from you immediately. Our aircraft can do it by themselves, but the precision required in this mission would benefit greatly from someone on the ground. If you can’t do it, let me know. We may drop in one of our own people to do it.”

  “I would recommend in the strongest possible terms that you not do that. It could compromise your mission and ours.”

  “The Navy has its own people who could be there in less than twenty-four hours—”

  “Yes. Your DEVGROUP, I suppose. Do not do this.”

  Kinkaid smiled at the others in the task force. “Then make it so I don’t have to.”

  “We will see.”

  “I need to hear back from you in less than an hour. If you’re not willing to help, we’ll be launching our own people immediately, but even that will not be ideal. They don’t know what’s inside the hill. Now, if you’re willing to share a diagram with—”

  “I will let you know as soon as I know.”

  “Thank you, Efraim.”

  “I haven’t said that I am willing to help. You are beginning to make me regret I said anything to you.”

  “You will not regret it in the long run.”

  “I will call. And, Joseph, please make sure your Turk knows none of this. It cannot get into the wrong hands.”

  Kinkaid glanced at Sami, who sat with his hand over his chin, listening to every word. “I will await your call.”

  The line went dead and Kinkaid put the receiver back on its cradle. He looked at the room full of CIA officers.

  Cunningham spoke. “They owe us. Ricketts.”

  Kinkaid nodded. “Efraim will remember him later.”

  “We’re still just doing their dirty work,” Sami said.

  “How?” Kinkaid asked, exasperated.

  “Maybe they want us to go after him in Iran because they couldn’t. They’ve known about him. Who knows, maybe for years. They failed to take him out, which they wouldn’t hesitate to do, if they could have. They tried in Lebanon, and missed again. Maybe rather than attack the Sheikh in his fortified positions, they just lateraled the whole thing to us.” Sami played with the blank notepad in front of him. “This whole reluctance to let us use an agent on the ground to laser the target? I don’t buy it. They’ll do it. Guaranteed. It was the plan all along. If we called, they’d be there for the final stroke. I think their guy is on the ground for this very purpose. Always has been. You’ll see,” Sami said, standing. He leaned against the wall and put his hands in his pockets defensively. They were all listening. “They got to where we are now, except they thought it through first. Instead of just bombing the fortresses to dust, they realized they’d never get it done. They knew they couldn’t penetrate this guy’s cave. They don’t have the GBU-28. They don’t have the weapon. But we do.”

  “The what? What kind of bomb did you say?”

  “GBU-28.”

  The others in the task force looked at one another. “What the hell is that?” Cunningham asked.

  “Penetrates a hundred feet. It was designed to get Saddam Hussein. They dropped two of them during the Gulf War.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I read Jane’s Defence Weekly like all the rest of you should.”

  “Whatever. But they couldn’t just ask us for a couple of these magic bombs?” Cunningham asked sarcastically. “We only give them what, three billion dollars a year? Come on.”

  “Sure they could have asked. And we would almost surely have given it to them. But then they would have had to fly into Iran. They have never flown into Iran. They want us to do it, because if Iran blows up, we can handle it. They might not be able to. This is going perfectly according to their plan.”

  The others sat silently. Kinkaid saw their faces. He realized Sami was gaining converts. “I think you’ve read too many novels,” he said, trying to be lighthearted.

  Sami was undeterred. “If you think Israel’s above using us, or anybody, you’re mistaken. Don’t forget the Liberty incident. Not only will they use us, they will kill us if it serves their purposes.”

  “That was an accident,” Kinkaid protested.

  Cunningham and the others laughed out loud.

  Kinkaid blushed. “That is the accepted position of our government.”

  Sami couldn’t believe his ears. “Why do we give them the benefit of the doubt?” he asked, looking around the room at the rest of the task force. He was angry. “Why them? Why do we disregard the Syrian Ambassador to the UN, and believe everything this Efraim tells us?”

  “Experience.”

  Sami stood up, agitated. “Experience? Israel has stabbed us in the back many times. They have spied on us, tricked us, used us, lied to us. Hell, they lie to themselves! What about the Mossad guy—I forget his name—who claimed to have a big spy inside Syria, and took out money to pay this guy for like twenty years, all about the Golan Heights, all kinds of stuff, then someone finally checks on it when he says Syria is about to go to war against Israel, and they find out it was all total bullshit. Guy made it all up and faked the reports. That was a Mossad guy!”

  “They have been our friend in the Middle East—” Kinkaid replied.

  “You are too close to this Efraim,” Sami accused. “You aren’t objective anymore.”

  “Watch it—“ Kinkaid warned. The rest of the task force was staring in disbelief. “We’re all tired, and saying things—”

  “Tired?” Sami asked. “I’m not tired, or at least not so tired that I don’t know what Israel is about. They are out for themselves. Always. If we are in the way, they will do whatever they need to do to us.”

  Kinkaid looked at Sami in a new light, remembering Efraim’s warning. “Perhaps you are biased—”

  Sami smiled ironically. “It always comes down to that, doesn’t it? I have an Arabic name, so I’m biased. So all the Jews in the CIA are biased for Israel? Will you say that?”

  “That’s ridiculous—”

  “Yet you accuse me—”

  “Because of what you are saying, and how you are behaving. You are being irrational.”

  “Jonathan Pollard, an American Jew, is in jail for spying on the U.S. for Israel. Right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “That isn’t my imagination. He was paid by Israel to steal secrets from this country. They targeted us. To spy on us.”

  “They expressed regret—”

  “For getting caught!”

  “It was an unusual circumstance. I’m sure those wounds have long been healed.”

  Sami was discouraged and showed it. “No, they haven’t. Not as long as he’s in jail, and they keep bringing his name up every chance they get. He’s their boy.” Sami headed toward the door. “And he’s not the only one.” He waited for some reaction to show on Kinkaid’s face. It did. Just a twitch and a glance away. “And you know it.”

  “Too many novels,” Kinkaid said.

  Sami’s intense face showed he didn’t think it was a time to be lighthearted. “No. Not novels. But I have read of the Mossad’s espionage in the United States. I’ve read of their penetration of the highest levels of the United States government by Mega.” He stopped when he saw the look of horror on Kinkaid’s face.

  “You know about Mega?” Kinkaid whispered. The tension in the room was remarkable. No one breathed. “How?”

  “By reading books I get at Barnes and Noble,” Sami replied. “Is there some truth to it?”

  “There have been rumors.”

  “I’ll say,” Sami said. “And there’s a file three inches thick about the investigation conducted jointly by the FBI and the Agency to find this Mega. But the investigation was conducted by idiots, and they never found him. They have several documents in Hebrew, and the translations are wrong—”

  Kinkaid smiled weakly, “So now you speak Hebrew?”

  “Of course I do, ancient and modern.
I’ve studied all the Semitic languages. If you had ever read my résumé you would know that.”

  Kinkaid was angry. Sami was lashing out recklessly. The entire task force was at risk of being sidetracked. “That was a long time ago. Mega was never found. It isn’t known if he really even existed.”

  “No, the investigation was called off!” Sami said loudly, moving aggressively toward Kinkaid. “Because right when they were closing in on the answer, certain information was brought up about a certain President’s proclivity to rendezvous with a certain intern. It was made known that the Mossad had tapes of their conversations. Suddenly the order came to shut down the investigation into Mega.”

  “That’s nonsense! Where did you get that?”

  “Didn’t you ever read the Starr report? Monica Lewinsky testified that President Clinton told her that a ‘foreign embassy’ was taping their calls!” He looked for recognition. “Shit, Joe! Who do you think she was referring to? And right after that the Mega investigation was closed down!”

  “So what are you saying?”

  “Just that there is someone in the highest levels of the United States government who has Israel’s interests ahead of ours. Do I need to recite for you the Jews who have held high positions in the government in the last eight years?”

  A chill descended into the room. Sami had crossed the line and everyone knew it.

  “So. That’s it,” Kinkaid said.

  “No, that’s not it. I am not anti-Semitic. But if you were looking for someone sympathetic to Israel, do you think you might be more likely to find such a person among the Jews? Have you never heard of their Sayan network around the world? Jews who are citizens of other countries that just ‘help out’ the Mossad when asked?” Sami suddenly remembered what Efraim had said. “And what is this about a young Turk? Information has been withheld from me, a member of the task force because I am Arabic?”

  “He had concerns—”

  “So you did what he asked and went behind the back of one of your own officers?” Sami yelled.

  “I put him on the speakerphone and let him say it to your face without his knowing it.” Kinkaid said, trying to control his anger. He knew he had let Sami go way too far, and in the wrong setting. He couldn’t have handled it much worse. Now it was poisonous. “I didn’t keep anything from you. You’re out of line, and you’re injecting issues where there aren’t any. I want to get this agent on the ground to laser for our pilots. The request came from us! Our pilots want the help, and I’m going to try to get it for them. And I’m telling you and everybody else here exactly what I’m doing. So you had better keep doing what you’re doing and cool it about intrigue and espionage. We’ve got a job to do here, clear?”

  “Yeah, it’s clear. But Mega is still in our government. And this whole thing may have been schemed by Israel.”

  “So back to that. They murdered their own people to set us up?”

  Sami shook his head. “How do you know who the other dead people were on that bus, Joe? You can’t even see the woman’s face in the photos of her in the bus. And you can’t see her hand! Did you even notice that? We have no idea who she was!”

  Kinkaid took a deep breath. “That’s not what happened.” He scanned the faces of the task force members. Several were clearly looking at him in a completely different way than they ever had before. Sami had damaged him. “Enough speculation. What we do know is where the Sheikh is. We need to help the Navy get him. Everybody agree with that?”

  They nodded.

  “Then don’t get sidetracked with corrosive speculation about ridiculous theories.” He stole a hard look at Sami. “And if anybody has a problem with me, or how this is going, come see me.” Kinkaid left the room.

  The rest of the task force stood silently, looking at one another. Cunningham broke the silence. “This Mega thing for real?”

  Sami nodded.

  “Who do you think it is, or was?”

  Sami didn’t know how to answer. He stared at the door that Kinkaid had just walked through. “Nothing says Mega isn’t inside the Agency.”

  Bark stormed into the ready room. The junior officers in the ready room wanted only one thing—for him not to be looking for them. “Trey!” Bark yelled as he quickly and expertly scanned the room for his target. He saw him in the back preparing the next day’s flight schedule. He strode to the back of the room, his steel-toed boots loud on the tile, not waiting until he was closer before beginning the conversation. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Woods waited for some additional information that would help him learn how he had screwed up this time. “What do you mean?” he asked defensively.

  “You asked the Gunner to submit an emergency weapons request?”

  “No, sir, he offered to contact Eglin, Skipper. He said he knew the guy in charge of the Air Force ordnance.”

  “Shit, Trey! You’ve got to make requests through official channels! And that’s after you’ve talked to me about it. You continue to make me look like dog shit in front of CAG. I’ll probably get a Fitrep that says ‘Marginally competent. Unable to control the lunatic officers in his squadron!’ I heard about this from CAG! You know how that makes me feel? Do you?”

  “Well—”

  “Exactly. Tongue-tied. Like some little shit-for-brains who walks around apologizing for things all the time. I don’t like apologizing for anything, Trey! You got that? I don’t like there being anything that needs apologizing for! These days seems I’m always apologizing for you! You want to explain all this to me before I put your sorry ass in HAQ again?”

  Woods was tired of getting beaten up for trying to do his job. “We’re slamming our heads against the wall, Skipper. You’ve seen the BDA photos. We’re just blowing up rocks—”

  “Then that’s what we do until we’re told to do something diff—”

  “Yes, sir, but I had an idea.”

  “The 28.”

  “Yes, sir. Why not? It’s made for this!”

  “Maybe. But who the hell do you think you are contacting the Air Force? What were you thinking about?”

  “I thought the Gunner was going to contact a friend of his at Eglin. Unofficially. E-mail. I thought he was going to check on availability. How practical it would be. See if there are any around, and if they could get shipped out here. I didn’t think he’d make an official request.” Woods began to breathe more normally. He tried to relax, but one look at Bark’s face as he stood over him with his hands on his hips would deter the most ambitious. “If I had come to you the first thing you’d have wanted to know is whether it can really be done. Are the weapons there, can they be shipped, how long would it take. I was trying to find out first whether it was a stupid idea. If it was, I didn’t need to bother you with it. I never intended—”

  Bark was not humored. “It’s never your bright ideas that get you in trouble, it’s your disregard for the chain of command. You see senior officers as a nuisance. You—”

  “No, sir—”

  “Shut up! Let me finish. You see senior officers as functionaries. They do their jobs, but aren’t courageous or smart like you. You use the chain of command only when you want someone to do something for you. Never to filter your brilliant ideas and tell you that they’re bullshit. Which some of them are. All of us have bullshit ideas, Trey. That’s why we have to tell them to others in the Navy, to keep a stupid idea from becoming something that kills us. Senior officers make mistakes too, but they’ve got a lot of experience and usually a staff to help them. You don’t have a damned staff, Trey. Quit acting like you run the show here. It’s what keeps you from being a 4.0 officer. You’re 4.0 in almost everything. But when it comes to doing things the way they should be done, through proper channels, you’re about 2.0. You following me?”

  “Yes.” He purposely didn’t add the “sir.” It was his small way of registering a protest. He pushed back a little. “Do you want me to tell the Gunner to stop asking?”

  Bark sat down in the chair nex
t to Woods. He didn’t want to acknowledge that Woods’s latest renegade idea had any merit, but he also knew it did. It annoyed the hell out of him to admit it, and he knew he would even have to ask about it. He had no choice. “What’s the status?”

  “Gunner is supposed to hear back within the hour. He contacted him by e-mail. He’ll get the gouge.”

  “Who did you have in mind to carry this pig of a bomb?”

  “Me. Us.”

  “We’re not certified.”

  “The testing was done. I saw the results. Tom Stenner did the testing. You know him? He’s at the RAG now.” Stenner was an instructor pilot at the F-14 RAG, the Replacement Air Group where new pilots and RI0s were taught to fly the Tomcat.

  “Sure. TPS grad.” Test Pilot School, one of the most highly respected jobs in Navy Air.

  “Exactly. He said it’s heavy and tricky, but drag, fuel, and performance characteristics were the same as if carrying two two-thousand-pounders. I e-mailed him this morning to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. He still had the test specs on his laptop in a PowerPoint presentation. He sent them to me in his return e-mail.” Woods opened the desk drawer slowly. He pulled out the copy of the PowerPoint presentation he had printed out and handed it to Bark. “Here it is.”

  Bark glanced at it and handed it back to Woods. “When did he do the tests?”

  “Five years ago.”

  “Anything since?”

  “No, sir. Wasn’t ever funded.”

  “F-18 ever drop it?”

  “No, sir. Never been done.”

  “So if anyone’s going to do it, it’s got to be us.”

  “Yes, sir. Exactly. And I’ve done the flight planning.”

  “Shit, Trey, there you go—”

  “No, just to see if it can be done. See if we can get there.”

  “Get where?”

  “Alamut.”

  “That’s in Iran.”

  “Yes, sir. Four hundred fifty miles one way.”

  “And then what? Drop it into a mountain?”

  “No, sir. Drop it exactly where it needs to be.”