David handed his pistol to Torres and cleaned out his pockets.
Then, carrying the package, he left the van, hailed a cab, and directed it to the Jamkaran Mosque. On the way, he put on his Bluetooth headset and called Zalinsky. “Is something happening?”
“What do you mean?” Zalinsky asked.
“I’m getting a weird feeling,” David said, “like something has started.”
“No, it’s all pretty quiet right now,” Zalinsky said.
“Is the boss going to move?” David asked cryptically so as not to draw the attention of the cab driver.
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Murray went to the White House. The president isn’t satisfied. He wants another source.”
“There’s no more time. We got him what he asked for.”
“He wants more.”
“Like what?”
“He wants Jalal Zandi.”
David laughed. “Is he kidding?”
“No, he’s dead serious.”
“How are we going to do that in the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours?”
“I don’t know. What about Khan? He and Zandi worked closely. He has to know where he is.”
That was true, David thought, but he hadn’t asked Khan much about Zandi and couldn’t now. Then he remembered Khan’s SIM card in his jacket lining. “Wait,” he told Zalinsky. “I’m uploading something to you.”
He opened the back of his Nokia phone, inserted the SIM card, and did a search. There it was, all of Zandi’s contact information. He was angry with himself for not thinking of it sooner, but he quickly uploaded everything to Langley and got Zalinsky back on the line.
“Got it?” he asked.
“Got it,” Zalinsky replied. “Great work. We’ll get right on this. Where are you now?”
“I’m in a cab on the way to the Jamkaran Mosque.”
“Not sure this is the best time for sightseeing.”
“I’m meeting a friend.”
“Who?”
David couldn’t say openly without attracting the attention of his driver. “I’m delivering the package he asked for.”
“You’re going to meet Javad Nouri?” Zalinsky said. “I thought that was later tonight.”
“He moved it up.”
“Why is he in Qom?”
“He’s coming just to see me.”
“What if you grab him?”
“I can’t.”
“No, seriously, David, the special ops team is following you, right?”
“Right, but—”
“Then take Nouri down,” Zalinsky pressed. “Can you imagine what a coup that would be? Almost as good as getting Zandi, and maybe we can get him, too.”
“Wouldn’t that unravel everything?” David pushed back. “I mean, if he’s gone, then wouldn’t the whole project, you know, be compromised?”
David suddenly heard a commotion in the background.
“Something’s happening,” Zalinsky said. “I’ll call you right back.”
Frustrated, David checked his watch. They would be at the mosque in less than three minutes. He didn’t have time to wait around.
“Mr. President, I have Prime Minister Naphtali on line one.”
Jackson forced his eyes open, grabbed his glasses off the nightstand, and stared at the clock. He turned on the lamp beside his bed.
“Put him through,” he told the White House switchboard operator. “Asher, please tell me you have very good news.”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. President.”
“Of course not,” Jackson said. “Good news can always wait until daybreak.”
“Mr. President, I am calling to inform you that we have credible, actionable intelligence from inside Iran on where their warheads are. Two are on Iranian naval vessels off our coast. The rest are being attached to intermediate-range ballistic missiles. We have evidence that the Twelfth Imam intends to launch these missiles at us within the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours, and we cannot take the risk of being hit first. Therefore, just moments ago, I ordered the IDF to commence Operation Xerxes to destroy those weapons and neutralize the Iranian threat. I wanted you to be the first to know.”
“Fox three, Fox three!”
The Gamma Team leader fired two AGM-84 Harpoon antiship missiles at the Jamaran, while simultaneously jamming the ships’ radar and communications. A split second later, his wingman fired two more Harpoons at the Sabalan. On cue, their colleagues fired upon the three destroyers.
Meanwhile, as the Harpoons were hurtling toward their targets at the speed of sound, an Israeli Dolphin-class submarine trailing the flotilla fired ten torpedoes in rapid succession.
“I have to say I’m very disappointed, Asher,” Jackson said.
“I understand your position, Mr. President,” Naphtali replied. “But please understand mine. There was no more time. We were facing annihilation and are exercising our God-given — and UN — recognized — right to self-defense. We can do this operation alone, if we must. But I am calling not just to inform you but to ask for your country’s assistance. The Mahdi and his nuclear force are not just a threat to us. They are a threat to you and to the entire free world.”
“Captain, Captain, we’re being fired upon!” the Iranian XO cried.
“Deploy countermeasures,” the captain of the Jamaran shouted back, racing for the bridge.
The sirens on the ship immediately sounded.
“Man your battle stations! Man your battle stations!”
But the attack came too fast. The men had no time to react. The first Harpoon hit the bridge. The second pierced the top of the deck at almost the exact same moment. Both erupted with enormous explosions that incinerated most of the crew within seconds, while below the water, two torpedoes tore massive holes in the underbelly of the ship. Thousands of gallons of icy seawater flooded the lower quarters, and the frigate began to sink almost instantly.
The officers and crew of the Sabalan had a few seconds more.
And that made all the difference. The captain and XO knew instantly that they were going to die. They weren’t going to be able to stop the inbound missiles or torpedoes. But just before the first impact, they were able to reach the fire control panel and launch all of their missiles.
58
“I don’t like being put in a corner,” the president said.
“Neither do we,” the prime minister replied.
“What kind of help do you expect, now that you’ve launched a war without US consent?”
One by one, the sub-launched cruise missiles hit their marks.
Three smashed into the fully staffed Defense Ministry headquarters in Tehran just after lunch, nearly bringing the building down and killing most of those inside.
Minutes later, three other missiles hit the top, middle, and ground floors of the Intelligence Ministry headquarters in Tehran, decimating the building and setting it ablaze.
Another high-priority target for a salvo of Israeli cruise missiles was Facility 311, the nuclear-enrichment facility in the town of Abyek, about sixty miles northwest of Tehran. One minute the complex and its 163 scientists and support staff were there; the next minute they were not.
In the south, no fewer than five cruise missiles obliterated the research and support facilities surrounding the light-water nuclear reactor in Bushehr, while leaving the reactor itself untouched. Without question, this had been the most controversial target for Israeli military planners and senior government officials. Should they hit a nearly active reactor site, particularly one built and partially operated by the Russians? The risks of striking Bushehr were high. So were the risks of leaving the site alone. A Mossad analysis noted that in the first full year of operation, the reactor could generate enough weapons-grade uranium to produce more than fifty bombs the size of the one dropped on Nagasaki. Naphtali had personally made the decision that it had to be neutralized.