Sardar interrupted, saying, “May I, sir?”
“Go ahead.”
Sardar turned to Hajizadeh, saying, “I recruited and trained these men. They are planning the attack based on the circumstances they see on the news, but I can change that. They will listen to me. If you wish, I can ensure they won’t execute unless they receive an order from this command, no matter what they hear is happening elsewhere. An order coming straight from you. Would that be more amenable?”
Hajizadeh thought for a moment, then said, “Yes, that would be amenable. A command from us, made together. We decide when to trigger, and if one of us disagrees, we don’t execute. Can we agree to those stipulations?”
The other commanders nodded, and Hajizadeh said, “Even with the attack, and assuming this magical dislocation of the Great Satan occurs, the Zionists have their own government. I agree the desire will be strong to use overwhelming force, but it’s not assured. You may not get the catalyst you wish. I realize there are men in the Zionist government who have wished this fight for decades, and they have a stronger voice now, but it may not be the strongest voice when the time comes.”
“You are correct, we do intend to leverage those very men. To do that, we have a third attack planned that will nullify any voice for a measured approach. Operation Zarbeh-e Sayeh will succeed by the reaction of those men.”
“Zarbeh-e Sayeh?”
“That’s what Sardar is calling our planning group, and I like it. Shadow Strike. It’s fitting, because while the West looks for the missiles in the air, we will strike where they least expect it. The third attack is against the head of the Zionist snake, leaving the body to thrash without reason.”
Confused, Hajizadeh said, “How are you going to do that?” He let out a nervous laugh and said, “Don’t tell me you expect me to drop a bomb on the prime minister like they did with Nasrallah? It will never reach him.”
“Actually, yes, that is the heart of Operation Zarbeh-e Sayeh. In fact, it is the first phase, but it won’t be accomplished by you and your missiles.”
Shocked, Hajizadeh said, “You’re going to try to kill the Zionist prime minister?”
“Not try. We’re going to kill him, right before we attack the Great Satan and use your treasured crown jewels against the Zionists.”
Growing agitated, General Hajizadeh said, “But that may guarantee a strike against us. Maybe even a nuclear one! Instead of glory at the pain of the Zionists, it may engender our own destruction.”
“Calm down. It will only guarantee a first strike if they can prove it came from us. They won’t be able to do that, but the desired effects will still occur. While the Zionists are reeling from that blow, the Americans will feel our wrath—and then ...” He paused and nodded at Hajizadeh. “Onlyafterwe’ve all agreed—we will execute the final strike. Trust me, we will cause exactly what we’ve planned.”
“How? How will you get someone who can accomplish such a thing without our fingerprints?”
Sardar spoke up for the first time, saying, “Luckily, there are plenty of people who want to kill the Zionists, and we have found one who is especially good.”
“Who?”
“You don’t need to know who he is, just that he is skilled at his job and he hates the Zionists more than we do.”
“If he is that good, he will be known to the Zionists. You saw the pagers in Lebanon. Mossad is everywhere and your man will be hunted.”
“No, he won’t. They may have heard of him in the past, but he’s been gone for ten years. Trust me, he’s a ghost.”
Chapter 12
The Las Vegas sun hit my eyes like a strobe light as soon as we left the rental garage at Harry Reid International Airport, the glare causing me to squint. I gave our GPS a second or two to catch up, then exited the airport. After a few turns we were on the Vegas Strip, with garish casinos rising out of the desert floor on both sides of the street.
Jennifer said, “This place looks different every time I come here.”
I agreed, but I wasn’t really a good barometer to judge the difference. It’s not like I was visiting every six months. Honestly, I wasn’t much of a “Vegas” type guy. For one, I didn’t like to gamble, and for another, the entire place reeked of desperation.
Visiting the SHOT show every couple of years was about my limit for Sin City, but I hadn’t picked this destination. The Oversight Council had, because Mosby and Elizabeth Ellington had decided to stop here on their RV vacation across America, and as the last people to see Sheriff Marley alive, they were my first step in hunting the Ghost.
Knuckles and Brett had willingly said they’d take the punishment of going to Vegas, but I’d sent them to Utah to see what they could find. I wasn’t counting on much, since very few in the sheriff’s department were read-on to the Ghost’s incarceration. In fact, very few in the whole of the United States government knew about his existence.
When Project Prometheus was formed after 9/11, its sole purpose was the killing or capturing of terrorist threats deemed outside the scope of the traditional intelligence or direct-action elements of the United Statesarsenal—whether due to political complications, United States Code, or the lack of specific capabilities. Originally, the mission itself was the end state for the Taskforce, as any terrorists we captured could simply be filtered into the steady stream headed to Guantánamo Bay. That worked fine up until GITMO became a target of worldwide outrage, which caused the US to quit using it for future detainees. After the US shifted gears, the Taskforce was left with a dilemma: What do we do with folks we captured?
We couldn’t very well turn them over to the Justice Department, as trying to explain how we’d captured them or present any evidence of their criminality would expose Taskforce operations.
We’d considered going “black site lite,” operating our own detention centers in foreign countries much like the CIA had in the early days after 9/11, but that was also discarded, as we didn’t have the global reach, connections, and backing that the CIA had, and attempting to do so was asking—once again—for a compromise of the Taskforce. We’d seen the roasting the CIA had received for their black sites.
We’d finally decided to use untapped assets we had inside the United States, leveraging handpicked veterans of special operations.
