Rubeo stared at both of them for another few seconds before finally offering a greeting.
“Colonel.” He nodded. “Captain. Have you eaten?”
“I haven’t,” said Turk. “I’m famished.”
“We have a tight schedule,” said Danny. “Things have been pushed up.”
“Yes,” said Rubeo, in his usual withering tone. He was the only man Turk had ever met who could make yes sound like a curse word. “You can eat while I talk,” Rubeo offered. His tone was nearly magnanimous, certainly in contrast to what had come before. “Let’s see what Wendy can make for you, and then we’ll go downstairs.”
RAY RUBEO HAD ASKED IF THEY WANTED FOOD AS A way to delay the briefing, if only for a few moments, but now as he watched Turk Mako eating the turkey sandwich he couldn’t help but feel worse, as if he were watching a condemned man’s final meal.
At least in that case the man would have deserved his fate.
“How much have you figured out on your own, Captain?” asked Rubeo, walking to the side of the basement conference center, a secure area dug deep below the main floor of the house. The building belonged to one of Rubeo’s companies, as did the range where Turk and the Delta team had been practicing. Occasionally used by Special Technology to test out equipment, the property was mainly leased to Delta and SOCCOM, the U.S. Special Operations Command, for various training and practice exercises. It had once been three separate ranches; Rubeo bought them all and merged them to make a property large enough to keep the curious far at bay.
“I’ve been too busy to make guesses,” said Turk. “They’ve been running me nuts. But if we’re talking Iran, I assume we’re going to strike their nuclear facilities.”
“One facility,” said Rubeo. “Just one.”
“This one is special,” said Danny. “It’s hard to get to, and it’s their newest facility. We need to move quickly, while we still have a chance. Even more quickly than we anticipated a week ago.”
“OK, sure,” answered Turk.
Rubeo rubbed his earlobe. There was a small gold-post earring there, its tiny surface smooth from his habit of touching it whenever he encountered a difficult moment, large or small. He waved his hand in front of a small glass panel on the side wall. The lighting dimmed and the wall at the front of the room turned light blue, a presentation screen appearing as lasers in the floor and ceiling created a visual computer screen that took up most of the space. “This should answer most of your questions. It will show the target and the general theory. Please wait until it has finished to ask questions.”
“OK.” Turk took another bite of his sandwich.
Rubeo folded his arms as the video presentation began. There was no sound; he supplied the running narrative.
“The target is accessible through a set of air shafts, utility conduits, and hallways. The main obstacles are at the mouth and a pair of air exchange mechanisms about fifty meters into the facility. Once you navigate past those, the rest becomes easy.”
The screen showed a louvered metal air scoop about three feet high by eight feet wide. The next image showed a mesh screen behind the louvers; this was followed by a schematic.
“We haven’t actually seen the face of these,” added Rubeo, hitting pause by pointing at the lower left corner of the screen. An infrared camera read his gestures. “Due to some technical problems with detecting fine mesh. That means it’s possible there will be no screen. But we are planning for a screen.”
He lowered his finger and the video continued.
“The first thing you’ll do is blow a hole through the screen,” said Rubeo. “There are no electronics in the area of the intakes, and we assume therefore that there are no detection devices, and the explosion will go unheard. In any event, it’s doubtful that there are any measures they can take to stop the attack.”
“I’m hitting it with missiles?” Turk asked.
Rubeo halted the show and glanced at Danny.
“The nano-UAVs,” said Danny.
“That’s why you’re here,” said Rubeo. “Why did they say you were chosen?”
“The Hydras are still being tested.”
“They’re the only weapon that can destroy the bunker,” said Rubeo. “Because of the configuration. You’re going to fly them right into the deepest part of the facility and blow it up.”
TURK LEFT THE REST OF HIS SANDWICH ON THE PLATE as Rubeo continued. The mission he was outlining was radical in the extreme. A small group of nano-UAVs would enter through air shafts hidden in a cave. After breaking through an air exchanger and flying down a series of conduits, they would enter the work space and find a room with the targeted equipment. When they ignited, they would set off a large explosion, weakening and hopefully destroying the entire structure.
There was an incredible amount of intelligence behind the presentation Rubeo was moving briskly through. The amount of detail on the air shafts was stunning—dimensions, material, even details on soldering flaws. Turk could see that the operation must have been in planning for months.
Even so, the intelligence had not been perfect. Danny made it clear they were pushing up the timetable.
“What am I flying these from?” Turk asked. “The Tigershark?”
“No,” said Rubeo. “That’s too risky. You’ll get a helicopter in Iran.”
“A helicopter? I can’t fly one. I mean, I can learn—”
“You’re not going to fly it,” said Danny. “We have a team in place to help you.”
“It’s regrettable,” interrupted Rubeo, “but the UAVs have a very limited control range, as you know. In a few months, we will have that solved. But for now . . .”
He shook his head.
“I have to fly them into the facility?” asked Turk.
“You are not actually flying them, Captain. Your only function is to guide them if there is trouble. You are the override.” Rubeo’s lips curled in a smirk. “Their roles and routes will be preplanned, but if there is a problem, or a contingency we haven’t planned for, we will need you there. You have done this before.”
“I’ve done more than that.”
“You’ll have to get within five miles of both sites,” said Danny, interrupting. “A Delta team is already in-country to help assist you. They’ve been scouting the sites.”
“Five miles is the absolute limit of your range,” said Rubeo. He looked over at Danny. “Closer would be better. May I continue?”
Danny nodded. Neither he nor Turk interrupted again.
RUBEO SPOKE MOSTLY ABOUT THE CONTROL UNIT AND how the modified UAVs differed from the ones Turk had worked with. The technical aspects were far from Danny’s domain, and he felt like a bystander. And in fact he was, removed from even the actual attack itself.
The plan was the latest of a long campaign to thwart Iran’s dogged efforts at building a nuke. It was the most recent variation in a line of contingencies aimed at taking down the hidden installation. It was better protected than any of the others involved in the Iranian program, deeper and more cleverly constructed. The team inside Iran hadn’t been sent to plot the nano-UAV strike; they were actually in place to assess the effects of a nuclear strike if the President ordered it to proceed. This attack was a recent brainstorm; it had been proposed by Rubeo after he was asked to consult on the analysis of some of the Iranian equipment detected at the site.
Because of that, the ground operation remained a Delta Force show. That meant there would be no Whiplash people at all on the mission. Danny had no doubt about Delta’s professionalism or capabilities; while by design Delta avoided publicity, its handpicked members represented the elite of the world’s military. He himself had worked with Delta on several occasions, with very good results.