Then,Target group on site. Execute.
Aaron’s chat screen started to go wild in Hebrew. He said, “They’ve penetrated Iranian airspace. No response from Iran.”
The Hebrew continued, and he said, “Moving north. Still no response from Iran.”
The Farsi continued, first from one end, then a reply from the other, with the CIA man waiting thirty seconds before each reply, extending out the chat.
The Taskforce chat said,Iranians getting suspicious.
Aaron said, “One minute until TOT.”
The Farsi continued.
The Taskforce chat said,Meeting is being called. They’ve decided to initiate the weapon.
Aaron said, “Thirty seconds.”
The Farsi from our side popped up again, and I knew it was a desperate attempt to keep the men in the room. I waited for a reply, but one didn’t come.Shit. They’ve left.
Aaron said, “Bomb’s away.”
I saw a reply from the Iranians appear in the Farsi chat, then turned to the screen with the video. There was a streak of light, followed by a direct hit on the buildings, one after another one-thousand-pound JDAMs pulverizing the place. It happened in the span of two seconds, the smoke and dust rising from the ruins and beginning to drift in the wind, the crosshairs of the ISR rotating to keep the site on the screen.
A Farsi chat appeared from our end. Twenty seconds later, another one came from our CIA man.
The Taskforce chat sent,Sending queries. No response.
A final Farsi chat appeared from us. Everyone on the plane waited in silence.
The Taskforce chat spit out,No response. Jackpot. Jackpot.
The aircraft erupted in cheers and clapping. I exhaled my breath, not even realizing I’d been holding it. I shook Aaron’s hand, then Veep’s. Jennifer hugged me and I looked at the prime minister over her shoulder. He gave me a tepid smile and a thumbs-up, then came over, saying, “Aaron and Shoshana tell me that Israel has you to thank.”
I said, “They did more than anyone. You should thank whoever sent them to Argentina in the first place.”
He nodded with a wisp of a smile again, and I knew what he was thinking. All the Americans were celebrating a successful operation, like it was an endstate, but he still had a dirty bomb to deal with.
I said, “Sorry about the cheering. I know it’s not over.”
He nodded, this time with a genuine smile and said, “It’s okay. I understand. Like in your football, you cheer after a touchdown even if the game isn’t over. Unfortunately, the game is still on the line for us, but we’ll find the bomb, don’t worry. You’ve given us the time for that.”
The aircraft turned into a little bit of a mixer, with everyone chattering like we were at a cocktail party. I asked Amanda if I could borrow her terminal and took it to my seat, dialing up the Taskforce and seeing Knuckles, Brett, Creed, and George Wolffe inside the Taskforce conference room, doing the same thing we were doing on the aircraft.
I got their attention, and they turned around, Wolffe saying, “Speak of the devil.”
I said, “The devil’s still running loose, unfortunately.”
He laughed and I said, “How’d the Oversight Council take all of us running amok? Everything cool?”
“Are you kidding? I look like a mastermind, with the Taskforce solving three terrorist actions all by itself. Even that prick Alexander Palmer had to congratulate me.”
I said, “Yeah, with a huge amount of luck. All three of them could have gone either way. Shit, one of them still could. That RDD is still out there.”
He grew serious and said, “I know, I know, but it wasn’t luck, and the RDD is all but neutralized. The Israelis just needed some time to mount radiological sensors on a Gray Eagle drone, time they now have. Once that’s done, they’ll find the device like a compass needle to a magnet. The president sends his regards.”
Knuckles said, “As well he should. How’s Amanda doing?”
I knew why he was asking. I said, “She’s fine. She asked about you. I told her you’d rather go to DC than be involved in her rescue attempt. She didn’t seem to think that was too cool.”
