Dick Couch - Out of the Ashes

Kashif was impressed by the way his uncle worked the dozen men in the warehouse, giving his foreman suggestions rather than orders. He sensed these men had worked for his uncle for quite some time. Suddenly, the old man cocked his head, as if he sensed something rather than heard it. He turned to the foreman.

“What is that truck doing there in the back, behind that stack of lumber?”

“Ah,” the man replied, “it’s the consignment of fertilizer that was delivered this morning.”

“I didn’t order any—”

It wasn’t a blinding flash, and the sound was more of an angry gray WHUMP than an explosion. Yet, it leveled the building. Surprisingly, there was only minor damage done to the surrounding structures. Yet, everyone in the warehouse perished. Some fourteen men were killed, but only those few with dental records were identified. One was a wealthy Arab businessman, and the authorities wondered just what he might have been doing there.

At Rafic Hariri International Airport outside Beirut, two men with impeccable Canadian passports boarded a flight for Cairo. One of them was a middle-aged man who bore a striking resemblance to Dennis Farina. In the troop commander’s office at Fort Bragg, an anxious Major Mike Volner waited, cell phone in hand. It was a throwaway and untraceable, except for the likes of someone like Aaron Bleich. He did not have to wait long.

“Yes,” he said after the first ring.

“It would seem the flight is on time.”

“Fine, and thanks for the call.”

Volner closed the phone and took a deep breath. Then he dialed a number on the secure phone on his desk. Chase Williams was sitting in his new office, which was still under construction, and answered immediately. He, too, had been waiting by the phone. The Op-Center director listened a moment, then permitted himself a smile — one of satisfaction and relief.

The elimination of Azka Perkasa and Abdul-Muqtadir Kashif was still a well-kept secret in government in the few weeks since Op-Center had made their two surgical hits. The Op-Center staff and their JSOC team had been asked not to reveal the hits had been made — that would be done “at the national level” in short order.

As with the hit on Perkasa, the takedown of Kashif had generated more lessons learned that Chase Williams and his team were still digesting as they continued to build up the Op-Center staff. These two hits had been done essentially “on the fly” by leveraging the intelligence Adam Putnam and his National Counterterrorism Center were able to provide, by turning loose Aaron Bleich, and by employing the JSOC team with the talent they brought to the table.

While Williams was proud of what both teams had accomplished, he knew it would not be good enough to carry out the Op-Center mission for the long haul. They weren’t there yet, not by a long shot. He had to keep recruiting, he had to keep building, and he had to keep training. However, for now, he had a memo to write to the president.

Chase Williams reported the deaths of Perkasa and Kashif in a short, cryptic memo to the president. It was in the format and protocol of Williams’s own design for communications that were to be strictly between him and the president, and no one else. The infrequent communiqués were coded simply “POTUS/OC Eyes Only.” These memos were never more than a single page, as was this one, and omitted nothing.

President Midkiff, in his reply, offered that strikes like these into foreign nations, and with the accompanying collateral damage, might be called to his attention before such events took place.

The next POTUS/OC Eyes Only from Williams was short and to the point. “Mr. President: There is no sense in both of us losing sleep over the innocent loss of life in doing what has to be done. Unless you direct otherwise, I will proceed as before unless there are strategic implications. CW.”

Midkiff pondered Williams’s reply. After a few moments he raised his eyebrows, pursed his lips, and slid the memo into the shredder.

Several days later, on September 9, a day selected because it was ten months to the day since the NFL attacks, President Midkiff sat in the Oval Office under the hot tungsten-halogen lamps as cameras rolled for his address to the nation. The Washington press corps had not been able to sniff out the reason for the prime-time address, and the White House press secretary had been vague, saying only that it was a national security matter.

“Three, two, one … rolling, Mr. President.”

“My fellow Americans, good evening. Tonight I can tell you that the perpetrators of the unprovoked attacks against our citizens on November 9 of last year have been brought to swift justice. There has been no internment in prison, there will be no trial. We will not have to listen to them hold forth about their ‘cause’ or their attempt to justify what they did. They have simply been identified, and we have eliminated them.”

The president was all business, not a hint of a smile or any other emotion other than purpose on his face. He went on to tell the American people in graphic detail just who was responsible and the violence that accompanied their summary judgment.

“Tonight we are serving notice to anyone, or any nation, who would cause our citizens harm. We have no patience, no compassion, and are not interested in whatever sick purpose might propel you to attack us. If you hurt our citizens, we will chase you to the ends of the earth and hunt you down and kill you. And it won’t take us a decade to do it.”

“This closes a tragic chapter for America that began exactly ten months ago. We have made substantial changes to our national security structure to ensure this does not happen again. May God bless our citizens killed on November 9, may God bless their grieving families, and may God bless America.”

As the cameras faded out on the president and the network talking heads took over, America, and the world, recognized a new chapter had begun. What they didn’t know, nor would ever know, was that Op-Center was up and running. Azka Perkasa and Abdul-Muqtadir Kashif had thought they had moved on from the events of November 9, but a team of bright and persistent analysts had carefully sifted through the e-mails, voice mails, and fund transfers to link them with the date and the crime. They were the first to feel the reach and finality of the new Op-Center. As the president got up from his chair after his announcement the first hand he shook belonged to Chase Williams.

Admiral Chase Williams emerged from the elevator in the basement of the headquarters of the National Geospatial-Intelligence Agency, the NGA, in Fort Belvoir North, in Fairfax, Virginia, for his weekly meeting with his core staff. This location enabled the new Op-Center to have access to NGA’s products and personnel, secure movement of data, and supersecure spaces, all key assets in information-based war fighting. The site they had chosen was ideal — it was close enough to the Beltway for Williams and the Op-Center staff to get to the White House, Pentagon, CIA, FBI, and National Counterterrorism Center — but it was still a bit off the beaten path.

While Chase Williams had moved out quickly once he was given the job as Op-Center director, assembling a staff and devising an effective concept of operations for the new Op-Center had taken some time. While there were still a few holes to fill, the core staff was largely in place. Also, as part of establishing Op-Center, special relationships were established with the Joint Special Operations Command, the JSOC, as well as with the FBI.