Larry Bond - Exit Plan

Hardy wasn’t a political animal, but Joanna was, and had spoken of Lloyd’s long relationship with the president. He asked, “How closely do we work with the State Department?” The nature of their trip was becoming clearer.

“Not at all. You are my personal envoys with sensitive information that is to be discussed with their intelligence people. With luck we can keep this below the Cabinet level on both sides. If Mossad or Military Intelligence can be convinced that the Iranians are not close to assembling a weapon, they can convince their leaders to wait.”

“What do you think about the other evidence: that the Iranians are getting close?”

Myles leaned back in his chair. “I agree with Dr. Kirkpatrick. There’s a mystery, but I’m not ready to throw away everything we’ve done before. Normally I’d wait and let the intelligence agencies sort it out, but we can’t sit on the fence, not with the Israelis ready to fly.”

Alison and Alvarez were both looking at their watches. Alvarez started to lean forward as if to speak, but Myles waved him back.

“If the intelligence supported it, I’d wish the Israelis Godspeed. But I’m convinced it doesn’t, and we” — he pointed to Hardy and Patterson — “meaning you two, have to convince them they’re wrong.”

The president stood. “You two are going to stop a war before it starts. Go home and pack. You leave in eight hours.”

6 April 2013

1200 Local Time/0900 Zulu

Kangan Police Barracks

“It’s confirmed, Major, he didn’t drown.” Deyyer was only twenty kilometers by road from Kangan, so Dahghan had chosen to give his report to Rahim in person. “There was no water in his lungs, and the doctor said he died from electric shock and severe burns. There are traces of exotic chemicals on his skin and clothing, which they are analyzing. He carried no identification. He was wearing an American-made watch.”

Dahghan was smiling now, and Rahim asked, “What else did you find?”

The young agent unwrapped an object. It was a thin piece of red plastic the size of a large book. One side was ragged, where it had been torn from a binding or notebook.

Rahim spoke English, and could easily read the lettering:

Deck Log

Advanced SEAL

Delivery System Hull 1

“They found that two kilometers southeast of the body’s location. I called our headquarters in Tehran. The Advanced SEAL Delivery System is a U.S. Navy minisub that can be used for commando missions. It has a crew of two and can hold at least six passengers. It’s carried by a larger sub. There is only one vehicle known to be in service. It is currently carried by USS Michigan , a Special Operations and cruise missile submarine, which was reported to be exercising with the Pakistani Navy last week.”

The major worked it through. “So an American submarine entered the gulf and sent a minisub in to contact two traitors on a beach southeast of Kangan. They wouldn’t send a sub unless they intended to exchange something or someone. Some time during that trip, the sub experienced an electrical fire” — he pointed to photos of the corpse—”killing at least one crewman and” — holding up the cover of the logbook—”likely causing it to sink.”

Rahim smiled. “Allah is good to us. But now he gives us another test. Where is the wreck of the submarine? Did survivors make it ashore? What was their business with the traitors?”

The major sat silently for a few minutes, got up and paced, studied the map, then started firing orders to Dahghan. “Expand the search. Alert every police station, Basij unit, and VEVAK office along the coast and from here north to Shiraz. Increase the number of checkpoints.

“I’m changing the traitors’ status as well. They are no longer to be captured. Pasdaran Captain Yousef Akbari and the nuclear engineer Shirin Naseri are dangerous traitors and should be shot on sight. If they are taken alive, they are to be held incommunicado until they can be turned over to VEVAK.”

The major continued, “The captain’s only living family member is his mother, but she is in a vegetative state. Naseri’s father is dead, but arrest her mother and uncle. Question them both thoroughly.”

“Yes, sir. The mother lives in Shiraz, but her uncle lives in Bandar Charak. We don’t have an office in such a small town. They’d have to come from Bandar Abbas.”

“We can’t wait,” Rahim insisted. “Go ahead and tell the Bandar Abbas office to send a team, but tell the local Pasdaran to make the arrest immediately. He should be held incommunicado until our people arrive and take custody. We know where these people live,” he added. “I want them both in our hands an hour from now. Move.”

After Dahghan left, Rahim placed a secure call to Moradi. He’d briefed the general earlier about the discovery of the body, but the new evidence confirmed his suspicions, and raised new concerns. The general answered immediately.

“They have been in contact with the Americans,” Rahim reported. He described the cover to the logbook. “If nothing else but to arrange a meeting. There is no way to know what information the traitors have passed to the Americans. At a minimum, they could provide a great deal of information on the actual status of the program.”

“Which could delay an attack,” Moradi concluded.

“The greater risk is if they had knowledge of our immediate plans.” Even on a secure line, Rahim was circumspect.

“Have you found any evidence that they do know?” Moradi’s tone was carefully neutral. They both understood the implications if the couple had revealed their plan.

“I am concerned that the date of their disappearance coincides with the commencement of our operation. I never assume coincidences.”

“Once they are captured, we will know how much they told the Americans.

“I disagree, General. That is irrelevant. We are on a short time scale, and there is nothing we can do to reverse what has been done. Our best course is to limit any further spread of the information. If they have the secret, it will die with them. I’d also like to withhold information about the discovery of the body.”

“You’re asking a lot. There are several ways we could publicize this that would badly damage American prestige.”

“I understand, sir, but it also warns the other side. I don’t like telling them what we know.”

“Concealment is not always the best course.”

“General, this is about more than merely embarrassing the United States. Because the Americans were meeting with Akbari and Naseri, there may be a link to our operation. Questions will be asked by both sides. If we can find them before news is released, then that link will be broken.”

“All right. I am convinced, and while we wait, I will use the time to plan how to use our dead friend to the best effect.”

“Another question arises. Was he alone?” Rahim asked.

“You think there was more than one American aboard the submarine?” Moradi asked.

“Two is likely, more is possible. But are they entombed within the wreck, or will they float ashore tomorrow? Or are they already on our shores, and alive?”

“In which case our traitors would not be traveling alone. Live Americans would look even better on television than a dead one,” Moradi observed wistfully.

“If there are Americans here, then their sub is still offshore, waiting for them,” Rahim said. “They will be trying to reach it,” he reasoned. “We must find it and sink it.”

“Only Pasdaran units can operate in gulf waters,” Moradi reminded him. “The navy operates east of Hormuz.”

“I understand that, sir. But only the navy can find and kill an American submarine, which, you can remind them, they let slip through the Strait of Hormuz unmolested.”