Authors: David M. Salkin
Chapter 30
Abandoned Oil Facility, Saudi Desert
Morning prayers were finished. Abdul Aziz brought Rasheed to a small office inside their compound away from the others.
“It is time to strike, Rasheed. We will hit two places that will send a clear message to the Infidels. I will be leading the first attack. I need someone to lead the second attack—someone I can trust, who will not fail.” He placed his hand on Rasheed’s forearm and squeezed. “You brought us the weapon. You will be my general for the second strike.”
Rasheed bowed his head humbly. “Thank you, Abdul. I would be honored.”
“I haven’t shared all of the details with the others. They are good soldiers, but they don’t need to know yet.” He paused and looked into Rasheed’s dark eyes. “Manchester United is playing Spain in the emir’s stadium. There will be tens of thousands of spectators, most of them foreigners. You’ve seen the pictures of that stadium. The emir invites westerners to drink alcohol and dress like whores. It’s disgraceful.”
“How will we carry it out?”
Abdul smiled and stood up, then walked to a closet. He pulled out an aluminum box with a canvas belt attacked to it. At first, Rasheed didn’t understand what he was looking at. When he realized it was a vending box used by the workers in the stadium, the smile crept across his face.
“This is the prototype. They are being prepared as we speak. Eighty boxes will be armed with a Sarin bomblet and small detonation device. When it nears halftime, and the stadium is full, our soldiers will spread throughout the stadium with the boxes, selling food and drink. I will make one call, which will go to every phone detonator. The eighty boxes will explode at once, releasing enough Sarin to inflict massive casualties. Our martyred brothers will have stuck the Infidels on international television. The whole world can watch it happen, God willing.”
Rasheed nodded. “It is an excellent plan, Abdul.”
“It is only one part. While our men are spreading throughout the stadium, you will lead three others, each with your own car. The lead car will have enough explosives to take out the gate at Al Udeid and kill the guards. With them out of the way, the other three vehicles can attack the barracks there. I have a diagram that shows the locations of the barracks where their pilots live. These are the men that have been bombing our brothers in Iraq and Afghanistan for years. You will kill them all, God willing.”
Rasheed bowed his head again. “To be the one who strikes the American airbase is a great honor, Abdul.”
“Paradise will await us both.”
The two of them returned to the large garage where three of the men were working on the preparations. They had carefully removed the bomblets from the bomb and were carefully packing them in Styrofoam. The Styrofoam was then wrapped with heavy duct tape, and a small amount of Semtex with a blasting cap and phone was then wired to it. The small bundle was then placed inside the bottom of the vendor box, which had been provided by a true believer who worked for the company. They would be switched out on game day morning, filled with food or beverages, and then sent out to the crowd according to the plan.
“As soon as they are finished, we will move from here. We need to get into Qatar as soon as possible. Your four vehicles have already been prepared. The first one is the truck. It contains enough Semtex to take out their concrete reinforced guardhouse. The three smaller cars have the Sarin. All of the vehicles have the explosives hidden inside the rear quarter panels. Even if the car was stopped and someone gave it a quick inspection, they would find nothing.”
The preparations continued throughout the morning, and by Zuhr prayers at noon the vehicles were loaded and ready. Abdul called all of his men together in the warehouse, where they prayed together, and then he made a short speech to inspire his followers. Three cars would follow Rasheed north on Highway 75, the rest of the men would take several trucks and cars and head due east to Qatar via Highway 10. Both routes would be traveling through the eastern desert. They would space themselves out to avoid any possible suspicion, but the area was so remote that the odds of anyone bothering them were slim.
The vendor boxes were in a truck from the vending company that had been loaned to one of their members by a NWJ supporter inside the company. Of course, that person had no idea that the stadium was the target and he would most likely be killed for his assistance during the attack. The truck would be driven to the stadium where the vendor boxes would be brought into the catering area and then would be loaded with snacks and drinks. All of their paperwork was in order, although much of it was forged. Abdul Aziz and several of his men were traveling under false passports, but they were so well made, with the assistance of supporters inside the Saudi passport office, that they would pass any inspection.
The vehicles pulled out of the old facility a few at a time, a caravan of sorts, and drove out into the one hundred degree Saudi sunshine.
Chapter 31
Operation Silent Serpent
Al Udeid Hanger, 1900 Hours
The brass in Special Operations back in Washington, DC loved code names. They named this one Silent Serpent, and in very short order had coordinated a very complicated mission with the Special Operations people from Al Udeid airbase and the CIA.
Mackey and Cascaes had assembled their team, with all of their gear, in Al Udeid’s helicopter hanger. With the two space-aged looking UH-60A stealth Black Hawks serving as dramatic backdrop, Mackey began the briefing. A screen behind Mackey showed a satellite image of the farm compound they would be assaulting.
“Gentlemen, it’s time to earn your reputation. You’re meat-eaters tonight. This farm is the last known location of an illegal arms dealer named Abu Mohamed. It’s believed that he’s smuggled in Sarin from Syria, which is to be supplied to New Wahhabi Jihad terrorists for an impending attack. We don’t know what their attack plans are yet, but if we can hit the target and destroy the Sarin, we’ll stop it before it starts.” He pressed a button on the remote and the projector showed a grainy picture of Abu Mohamed. “This is Abu Mohamed. We’d like to take him alive if possible. If the Sarin’s already been moved, he may be able to tell us where it went. Anyone else in the compound is considered an armed threat. We’ll be using silenced weapons and night vision when we assault at oh-four-hundred. Our goal is to get in, take out everything that moves, confirm the Sarin, and destroy it. We then exfil to Doha on the same birds that brought us in.”
Mackey pointed to the two strange looking Blackhawks behind the team. “These are the same type of birds that were used to get Bin Laden. They’ll be bringing us in. Dust off is at oh-three hundred. Time to target is one hour. The Moon Dogs will be flying two Prowlers from Al Udeid to Riyadh, which isn’t unusual. Routine training flight, except this time they’ll loop south and jam all radar and electronics in the area. Our birds will go in quiet and invisible. The Prowlers will be jamming everything at the farm. No phones, alarms, or detonation devises will be operational. In theory, our comm channel won’t be affected, but if we lose ears with each other, follow the timetable and make sure you know where each other are. Birds will drop us fifty yards from the target so we won’t wake anyone up. Hodges will find a spot nearby to provide sniper cover. Hodges, you’ll be silencing that canon.”
“Yes, sir. At fifty yards the silencer’s range limitation won’t be a factor. Looks like there’s a little spot near the infil point that might work,” said Hodges, pointing to a rocky outcropping.
Mackey pressed the remote and showed a closer image of the two small houses and large barn. “Cascaes will lead team one into the larger farmhouse. Moose, Ripper, Jensen, McCoy, Stewart, Santos, and Smitty—you’re team one. I’ll take team two into the barn. It’s the most likely place to keep the Sarin. The bombs are heavy. Not the kind of thing you carry into the living room. Team two is Perez, Cohen, O’Conner, and Woods. We’ll all be in chemical suits. We move through nice and slow, eliminate all targets, and secure the bomb if it’s there. The chem-suits are just a precaution, but once we confirm the Sarin, we’re blowing it in place, not taking it with us. Ernie P., I know how you love blowing shit up. Make sure you have enough C-4 and a long-ass fuse. We don’t want to be anywhere near that Sarin when it detonates. Jones and Koches are team three. You’ll get that small building in the back. Satellite and drone intel confirms at least six Hajjis have been in and out of the main house. We haven’t seen activity in and out of the barn or smaller house, but that doesn’t mean no one’s there. If we do this right, we’re through the doors at oh-four-hundred and dusting off twenty minutes later.”
Cascaes stood up and walked to Mackey. “We’re going in unrehearsed, but this should be a straight forward mission. This is sensitive, gentlemen. We’re taking down targets on an ally’s soil without their permission. This is not an official operation. The birds will be on the ground waiting for us to get out and dust off. Prowlers can’t stay on station more than twenty minutes without raising questions. We move silent and efficiently. Hodges, you’re going to be alone out there on overwatch. Watch your six, and make sure you get your ass to the chopper when it’s time to go. Team one is on chalk one—teams two and three on chalk two. For now, we stay here in the hanger until it’s time to go. Check comms and weapons, eat some delicious MREs, rack out, and be ready to haul ass.”
Chapter 32
Qatar – Sunset
Abdul Aziz thanked Allah for seeing him through the border crossing without incident. The caravan of cars had arrived a few at a time at the small warehouse located only a couple of kilometers from the stadium. They had driven past it on their way to the new safe house, and Abdul had felt his heart pounding in his chest when he saw the stadium for the first time. It was a massive structure and would be filled with so many Infidels. He felt immense pride in his choice of targets.
Once they arrived at the warehouse, the men ate a simple meal of food they had brought with them, and unrolled bedding that had been left for them at the warehouse. They would sleep and try to keep focused on their mission and eternal reward. They fought off any of their hidden personal fear with inspirational images of their leader, Abdul Aziz, leading them into Paradise. Abdul had failed to mention to his men, including Rasheed, that he had no intention of dying with the rest of them. He was too important. He would get everyone into position, leave the stadium, and make the call from a safe distance.
Once the men were settled in for the night, Abdul called Rasheed on a new disposable cell phone.
“Assalamu Alaykum Wa Rahmatullaahi wa barakato,”
said Rasheed quietly from a small motel.
“
Wa alaykum assalam
,” replied Abdul. “You are safe?”
“Yes. A small motel in a remote location. An hour from the target. Everything is fine. The vehicles are right outside our rooms. We’re watching them. I don’t think there are any other guests at this motel. I await the final instructions.”
“Excellent. The match begins tomorrow night at six o’clock. You will attack at seven, so the stadium here is already full. We will attack shortly after you. Our attacks must be close together.”
“We’ll meet again in Paradise,” said Rasheed, thinking about his friend Jamal.
“God willing,” said Abdul, even though he wasn’t planning on being in Paradise for quite a while yet.
Chapter 33
Al Udeid: 0300 Hours
The men had woken up from a few hours of uncomfortable sleep on the hanger floor and quickly packed up their gear. They hustled to the stealth Black Hawks and took their positions inside. The crew chief gave the pilot a thumbs-up, and the pilot radioed the hanger security officer to open the hanger doors. The massive doors slowly slid open, and the pilots started their rotors. Only the SEALs had ever been on stealth helicopters before, and the rest of the team was amazed at how quiet they were. The machines moved forward and lifted off out of the hanger with only the slightest of sub-woofer background noise.
The two Black Hawks rose and banked southwest staying fairly low at two thousand feet. Once they were over the desert, they dropped even lower and flew at 150 knots towards their target. Thirty minutes after they took off, two Moon Dog prowlers blasted down the runway and shot off into the moonless night. They hit five hundred knots at an altitude of twenty-five thousand feet only a moment later. By the time the birds were approaching the target, the Prowlers would be high overhead, making sure that the birds were invisible, and that no one on the ground could detonate any explosives electronically.
The pilot’s voice on the lead helicopter spoke quietly into the crew chief’s headset. “Time to target, sixty seconds, over.”
“Roger, sixty seconds, over.” The crew chief yelled at Mackey, who had a full chemical suit on with night vision goggles over it. It was cumbersome. “Sixty seconds!” he yelled at Mackey, who gave him a thumbs-up. The rest of the men returned the hand signal.
The two helicopters touched down gently on the sand, the doors slid open, and the men jumped down and began moving quickly towards the compound, except Hodges, who hustled towards the rocky tower about halfway between the landing zone and the compound. He climbed quickly to the top of the rocks and began settling into sniper mode.
Cascaes’ team moved single file towards the farmhouse. The area was silent. Only the sounds of their boots crunching across baked ground made any noise. The laser sites on their M4s made red dots on the door of the house as they approached. Cascaes looked at Moose and Ripper, who instantly moved around the back of the house to find the rear door.
Mackey and his four-man team moved to the barn, looking like aliens in their chemsuits and night vision. Cohen carried a small sniffing device in his left hand that would alert them to any Sarin in the air. In his right was a silenced Beretta. The rest of them carried M4s.
Jones and Koches slipped silently over a stone wall and headed to the small house in back of the farmhouse.
High overhead, the Moon Dogs were screwing up cell phone service for anyone within ten miles who might be awake at four in the morning.
“In position,” whispered Moose from the rear door of the main house.
“Go quiet,” replied Cascaes. He turned the doorknob slowly and pushed. It was bolted from the inside. So much for a quiet entrance. He stepped to the left and Raul Santos kicked the door as hard as he could below the knob. The old wooden door splintered, and the door flew open. McCoy, Stewart, Smitty, and Cascaes piled into the room. Santos took a knee and checked behind them. From the rear of the house, Moose and Ripper shattered their door and moved up a flight of stairs immediately in front of them.
In the front of the house, a guard was sleeping on a couch near the door. He woke up when the door was kicked open, but by the time he reached for his AK47, he had been double-tapped by McCoy right through his heart. They all hesitated and listened. Still no sound.
Moose and Ripper reached the top of the stairs and stepped into a small hallway. There were two doors on each side of the hall. Moose took the first one on the right and Ripper the first on the left. They each entered quietly. Moose found himself in an empty bedroom and backed out. Ripper was also in a bedroom, where a man was fast asleep. It didn’t give him any pleasure to kill a defenseless man, but Ripper put two rounds through the man’s head after making sure it wasn’t Abu Mohamed.
He backed out into the hallway and nodded to Moose, and the two of them walked to the next two doors.
* * *
Out by the barn, Ernie P. slowly pulled the barn door open while the rest of the team had guns at the ready. Jon Cohen held out the sniffing device but didn’t get any reading. “It’s safe,” he whispered. Mackey stepped into the barn with Lance Woods. A quick scan proved to them that they were in a large empty barn.
“Shit,” mumbled Mackey. “Search thoroughly. Check for cellars and look up the stairs in the loft.”
The team moved quickly, rummaging through every possible hiding place and coming up empty.
“Hey,” whispered Jon to Mackey. He pointed to a large empty crate. “No reading on the crate, but there’s maybe a trace by that pole. Maybe they spilled some a few days ago. Barely registers but there
was
Sarin in this barn.”
* * *
Earl Jones and Jake Koches moved quickly across a small courtyard to the rear house. Jake signaled that he was going around the front. Earl nodded and moved around the corner looking for the back door. As he turned the corner, he found himself face to face with a teenage boy, maybe sixteen or so, holding an old shotgun. The boy raised the shotgun and Earl just stared at him. Images of the kids in the truck cab flashed in his brain and he froze. In his earpiece he could hear Eric Hodges yelling at him.
“Earl!”
The shotgun blast threw Earl almost three feet onto his back. A split second later, Hodges fired a round that took off the top of the kid’s head.
“Overwatch to team three, Jones is down!”
Jake Koches had just gotten to the front door when he heard the blast, and he kicked the door open and bolted into the house. The tiny stone house was only one floor, with two rooms separated by a knee wall. Abu Mohamed had been sleeping on a couch in the rear part of the house when the shotgun woke him up. He grabbed his AK47 and pointed it at Koches, who fired two quick rounds through his chest and then a second two through his head from across the house. He raced through the rest of the house checking for other hostiles, desperately trying to get out the back door to Earl Jones. Jake made sure the rooms were clear and then opened the rear door, taking a knee and looking around the courtyard. He saw the dead kid and scanned the yard. Nothing. He moved quickly out of the house and found Earl on his back coughing.
“Earl!” he yelled as he dropped to his knee. In his earpiece, Hodges spoke quietly. “Jake, I’ve got you covered. Rear yard is clear.”
“Earl?” repeated Jake, grabbing Earl’s Kevlar vest. The shotgun blast had hit him square in the chest. The ceramic plate over Earl’s heart had stopped three of the four slugs, and the fourth had gone through Earl’s right bicep without hitting any bone or artery.
“I’m good. I’m okay,” said Earl, dazed.
Jake pulled a pressure bandage out of his cargo pant pocket and tied off Earl’s arm. “The house is clear. I took out one hostile, but I think it was the target. Let’s boogie to the bird.” He helped Earl to his feet, retrieved Earl’s weapon, and the two of them jogged back to the Black Hawks. “Skipper, team three is exfil. Target is KIA, over.”
Mackey was still in the barn when he heard Koches. There was no Sarin and now no one to ask about it. “All right, that’s it. Team two is out. We go through the rear house on the way out. I need a picture of the KIA over there. Team one, you clear?”
Inside the house, upstairs, Ripper and Moose answered the question with repeated bursts from their M4s. “We’re clear.” Cascaes and the men downstairs waited for Ripper and Moose to come down the steps, and then the eight of them ran back towards the helicopters.
Mackey and his team took a quick picture of what was left of Abu Mohamed and then raced back to the extraction zone. “Hodges! Get your ass back to the bird!”
Two minutes later, two Black Hawks silently flew across empty desert back to Qatar airspace.