It had taken a long time. Almost fifteen years earlier, he had read the papers written by his good friend, now-Colonel Gholam Hassanzadeh. Armed with these, he had gone to an old mentor in the Defense Ministry with the proposal for a careful and discreet program to build nuclear warheads and delivery systems. It would take time and patience, but the plan would yield results. The Defense Ministry had entrusted him with industrial responsibility for the project, while Colonel Hassanzadeh handled security. That made them two of the most important men in Iran.
Now the project was about to bear fruit. He looked at the time lines with satisfaction, and mentally reviewed the schedules. Final assembly of the weapons was timed for the American holidays at the end of the year, when their attention would be focused on that bizarre form of football they worshipped more than their God. Over the Thanksgiving weekend, the components for the warheads would be moved from the fabrication shop at Automobile Plant #3 to the nuclear plant at Bushehr, where the plutonium was being extracted from the last batch of fuel rods from the twin reactors.
Starting on Christmas Eve, twelve warheads would be assembled in a special facility at Bushehr, over a period of seven days. Finally, the warheads would be brought back to the auto plant for mating to the IRBMs and AS-19s, with delivery to operational units the following day. Once the weapons were deployed, there would be a declaration that Iran was a nuclear power and would no longer submit to unfair treaties or agreements imposed by Western powers. From that moment, they would be the regional superpower. The Iranian people would again be able to seek their destiny, without interference by outsiders.
Russian Embassy, Teheran, Iran, September 26th, 2006
To Yuri Andreevich Rogov, sitting in his embassy office, the CD-ROM in his hand felt like a disk of deadly plutonium. It might as well have been, for it held the very documents and diagrams that the Machinery Minister had been reviewing the night before. The disk had been smuggled out of Bushehr in an audio CD case, labeled as Armenian folk music. Someone had copied an actual audio CD, adding written data to the outside tracks. The disk had been passed to Telfian covertly by one of the Pakistani technicians in the secure area, while they had been in the cafeteria together. Telfian had had no idea what it was at first — not until he inserted the disk into his multimedia laptop computer to listen to it, and accidentally found the data files. Telfian had then used a special code phrase whereby the embassy could request his recall on a phony family emergency. He gave the disk to Rogov, then returned the next day to Bushehr to maintain the cover for the brave Pakistani. Now Rogov had the problem of getting the disk back to SVR headquarters in Moscow. There was really only one way. He made reservations on an Aeroflot flight home in two days, so as not to appear too eager.
Defense Intelligence Agency Headquarters, Bolling AFB, near Washington, D.C., September 30th, 2006
The chairman of the Counterproliferation Coordinating Committee brought the meeting to order, and quickly summarized the data the Russians had forwarded that morning. Combined with other bits and pieces that had come in, they now had a full picture of how Iran planned to join the nuclear "club." The documents detailed an exquisite deception and security plan. The Iranians had purchased daily 1-meter-resolution commercial satellite imagery covering every base in the Western world that supported special operations forces. The list read like a mailing roster for a snake-eaters convention. Fort Bragg, North Carolina; Hurlbert Field, Florida; the SEALs training base at Coronado, California. Even the garrison and training facilities for the British SAS and German GSG-9. They had arranged for Iranian nationals to emigrate to each nation and set up businesses, usually things like dry cleaners and pizza-takeout shops, just outside the bases themselves. The Iranian agents reported home though a complex E-mail path over the Internet using encrypted messages. It was an almost perfect system, and it would be noticed immediately if one of the agents were arrested. The result was that special operations units which could neutralize the Iranian weapons program were covered with an Iranian surveillance blanket, making surprise impossible.
What made the situation worse for the intelligence types was that they had done their job. Thanks to their efforts to bring together the intelligence community and build relationships with past enemies, they had achieved an intelligence coup. Yet because of the Iranians' patience and care, it seemed as if nothing could be done. But unless they did something radical soon, the balance of power in the Middle East was about to take a dangerous tilt. The Marine lieutenant colonel broke the gloom with a comment about the Iranian surveillance list. Nowhere on it was even one U.S. Marine Corps base.
Fleet Marine Force Atlantic Headquarters, Naval Station Norfolk, Virginia, October 5th, 2006
Dr. Kennelly and Lieutenant Harris were both wondering what they were doing in the secure conference room of the Fleet Marine Force Atlantic (FMFLANT) headquarters this fine day. The heat and humidity of summer had finally broken, and you could almost feel fall in the air. In the room with them were a number of Navy, Air Force, and Marine officers, none over the rank of colonel or captain. Precisely at 0800, the brigadier who served as deputy commander FMFLANT rose and went to the podium. He pushed a button to display a briefing slide onto the large-screen projector to the side of him.
"Ladies and gentleman, we have here an opportunity to excel…."
Everyone in the room tensed up, knowing exactly what that kind of invitation meant. As he outlined the situation at Bushehr and Bandar al Abbas, you could feel the anxiety in the room rise. Dr. Kennelly wondered if this was how it felt back in 1949 when the first Soviet A-bomb test was announced. If the data was correct, a new nuclear power would be born in just three months. The fact that he had contributed to the discovery just made him sicker. What the general had to say next stunned them even more:
"Your job is to stop this program, and bring home irrefutable evidence of what the Iranians have been up to."
He flipped through his charts, and the officers made furious notes on the hard-copy charts that had been supplied to them. A Marine colonel spoke next.
"Sir, am I to understand that the 22nd MEU (SOC) is the only element of the force that will actually be in the Gulf itself?"
The reply came quickly. "Yes, Colonel, you'll relieve the 31st as scheduled, with the extra training and support that we have described here previously. Other than that, we want nothing of this operation to ever touch ground in the region. We're trying to provide complete deniability for the Saudis and our other friends. The President, the Congressional leadership, and the Joint Chiefs are all behind this one, and they want it to go off smoothly. Any questions?"
"How about the name of the operation sir?"
The General replied with a smile, "Back in the 90s, the old-time intelligence analysts called this plant 'the Dead Dog.' When we get done with it, it's going to be a Chilly Dog!"
There was a long pause, after which the colonel replied, "Semper Fi, sir!"