Of course, they had not shared this plan with their unwitting partners in this operation.
The United States wanted intelligence on Pakistan's nuclear capacity as much as India did. The Americans needed to know who was helping to arm Islamabad and whether the missiles they had deployed could reach other non-Muslim nations. Both Washington and New Delhi knew that if an American unit were discovered in Kashmir it would cause a diplomatic row but not start a war. Thus, the U.S. government had offered to send over a team that was off the normal military radar. Anonymity was important since Russia, China, and other nations had moles at U.S. military installations. These spies kept an eye on the comings and goings of the U.S. Navy SEALs, the U.S. Army Delta Force 1st Special Forces Operational Detachment, and other elite forces. The information they gathered was used internally and also sold to other nations.
The team that was en route from Washington, the National Crisis Management Center's Striker unit, had experience in mountain silo surveillance going back to a successful operation in the Diamond Mountains of North Korea years before. They were linking up with a NSA operative who had worked with the the Indian government and knew the area they would be searching.
Major Puri had to make certain that as soon as the American squad arrived the search-and-identify mission went smoothly and quickly. The Americans would not be told of the capture of the Pakistani cell. They would not know that a strike was actually in the offing. That information would only be revealed when it was necessary to blunt international condemnation of India's actions. If necessary, the participation of the Striker unit would also be exposed. The United States would have no choice then but to back the Indian strike.
Puri tugged on the hem of his jacket to straighten it. He picked up his turban, placed it squarely on his head, and headed for the door. He was glad of one thing, at least. His name was not attached to the SFF action in any way. As far as any official communiques were concerned, he had simply been told to help the Americans find the silos.
He was just doing his job.
He was just carrying out orders.
ELEVEN
"This is not good," Bob Herbert said as he stared at the computer monitor. "This is not good at all."
The intelligence chief had been reviewing the latest satellite images from the mountains bordering Kashmir. Suddenly, a State Department news update flashed across the screen. Herbert clicked on the headline and had just started reading when the desk phone beeped. He glanced with annoyance at the small black console. It was an outside line. Herbert jabbed the button and picked up the receiver. He continued reading.
"Herbert here," he said.
"Bob, this is Hank Lewis," said the caller.
The name was familiar but for some reason Herbert could not place it. Then again, he was not trying very hard. He was concentrating on the news brief. According to the update there had been two powerful explosions in Srinagar. Both of them were directed at Hindu targets. That was going to ratchet up tensions along the line of control. Herbert needed to get more information and brief Paul Hood and General Rodgers as soon as possible.
"I've been meaning to call since I took over at NSA," Lewis said, "but it's been brutal getting up to speed."
Jesus, Herbert thought. That's who Hank Lewis was. Jack Fenwick's replacement at the National Security Agency. Lewis had just signed off on the NSA's participation in the Striker mission. Herbert should have known the name right away. But he forgave himself. He had a mission headed into a hot zone that had just become hotter. His brain was on autopilot.
"You don't have to explain. I know what the workload is like over there," Herbert assured him. "I assume you're calling about the State Department update on Kashmir?"
"I haven't seen that report yet," Lewis admitted. "But I did receive a call from Ron Friday, the man who's supposed to meet your Striker team. He told me what you probably read. That an hour ago there were three powerful bomb blasts in a bazaar in Srinagar."
"Three?" Herbert replied. "The State Department says there were two explosions."
"Mr. Friday was within visual range of ground zero," Lewis informed him. "He said there were simultaneous explosions in both the police station and in the Hindu temple. They were followed by a third blast onboard a bus full of Hindu pilgrims."
Hearing the event described, Herbert flashed back to the embassy bombing in Beirut. The moment of the explosion was not what stayed with him. That was like running a car into a wall, a full-body hit. What he remembered, vividly, was the sickness of coming to beneath the rubble and realizing in a sickening instant exactly what had happened.
"Was your man hurt?" Herbert asked.
"Incredibly, no," Lewis said. "Mr. Friday said the explosions would have been worse except that high-impact concussive devices were employed. That minimized the damage radius."
"He was lucky," Herbert said. HiCon explosives tended to produce a big percussive center, nominal shock waves, and very little collateral damage. "So why is Friday so sure the first two hits were separate blasts? The second one could have been an oil or propane tank exploding. There are often secondary pops in attacks of this kind."
"Mr. Friday was very specific about the explosions being simultaneous, not successive," Lewis replied. "After the attack he also found two very similar but separate debris trails leading from the buildings. That suggests identical devices in different locations."
"Possibly," Herbert said.
An expression from Herbert's childhood came floating back: He who smelt it dealt it. Op-Center's intelligence chief briefly wondered if Friday might have been responsible for the blasts. However, Herbert could not think of a reason for Friday to have done that. And he had not become cynical enough to look for a reason. Not yet, anyway.
"Let's say there were three blasts," Herbert said. "What do your nerve endings tell you about all this?"
"My immediate thought, of course, is that the Pakistans are turning up the heat by attacking religious targets," Lewis replied. "But we don't have enough intel to back that up."
"And if the idea was to hit at the Hindus directly, why would they strike the police station as well?" Herbert asked.
"To cripple their pursuit capabilities, I would imagine," Lewis suggested.
"Maybe," Herbert replied.
Everything Lewis said made sense. Which meant one of two things. Either he was right or the obvious answer was what the perpetrators wanted investigators to believe.
"Your Strikers won't be arriving for another twenty-two hours and change," Lewis said. "I'm going to have Mr. Friday go back to the target area and see what he can learn. Are there any resources you can call on?"
"Yes," Herbert said. "India's Intelligence Bureau and the Defense Ministry helped us to organize the Striker mission. I'll see what they know and get back to you."
"Thanks," Lewis said. "By the way, I'm looking forward to working with you. I've followed your career ever since you went over to Germany to take on those neo-Nazis. I trust men who get out from behind their desk. It means they put job and country before personal security."
"Either that or it means they're crazy," Herbert said. "But thanks. Stay in touch."