identify targets at long range and to fire an invisible laser beam to guide “smart” munitions to their point of impact. The system was placed on a short tripod, and he had been watching the building for hours through both visible and infrared cameras. After receiving the order to illuminate the target, he lifted the red safety cover and switched the laser to “designate.” By placing his optical crosshairs in the center of the target building, he pressed the trigger, activating the laser.
The designator shot a pencil-thin beam of high energy light in a straight line from the system to the building. It was invisible to the human eye, so neither Stokes nor the guards around the building could see anything unusual.
Aboard the aircraft, the missile camera had special electronics that could “see” the laser spot reflected from the building. The weapons control officer received a signal from the missile indicating that it had acquired the spot. In less than a minute after Stokes began painting the building, the weapons officer received a confirmation from the missile that the seeker had a firm lock on the spot. He pressed his talk button on his joystick controller, “Bravo, we have positive lock on the target, and no cloud cover. Request permission to fire.”
Rachael heard the PA systems blare, “Permission to fire, granted. Repeat, granted. Confirm.”
“Fox One away. Fox One away.”
The Hellfire missile can be fired up to five miles away from the target. It weighs slightly over one hundred pounds and carries a twenty-pound explosive warhead. It can be configured with several different guidance systems, but this mission was using the direct laser designation to assure pinpoint accuracy.
Stokes had the PRC-117 radio lying on the ground beside him and heard the launch verification. One eye continued to keep the target designated, while his other eye saw the flash of the missile motor streaming across the sky from the Predator several thousand feet below him. Total flight time for the missile was under three seconds.
Escape
After verifying their target, Peter and Blomstein moved cautiously through the yards, back to the street parallel to the mansion. It was quiet in the early morning hours as they began walking south toward the museum district. It was much too early to be touring and they were careful to stay in the shadows and not move suddenly, but they also needed to be out of the area before the missile hit.
As they began to cross the street at the end of the first block, a police car turned on lights and drove toward them. They crossed the street and continued walking as the car pulled alongside and the officer said something in Farsi. Peter kept walking but looked at the man and gave an exaggerated shrug.
“Stop!” The order was shouted as the officer pulled ahead of them with his car and stepped out.
“What are you doing here at this time?” The officer had his hand on his gun pommel, but didn’t draw.
Peter answered, “I think we’re lost. We were on the plaza by the museums and we’re trying to find the train.”
“The museums have been not opened for hours and the train is on the other side of the plaza. You will stay with me!”
“Look officer, we’re just here on business and wanted to see some of your city tonight.”
The officer responded, “Let me see your papers!”
After glancing at the two passports, he instructed them to move five paces in front of the car and to stay there.
He took their passports and went into the car to use the radio. Peter and Blomstein looked at each other, but remained still. After several dispatch exchanges the officer dropped their passports on the front seat of the car and commanded them, “More police are coming and you must wait here without moving.” His hand remained threateningly poised by his gun.
On the mountain above the city, Stoke’s radio crackled, “Striker Two, do you copy, over.”
“This is Striker Two, over.”
As Peter and Blomstein stood waiting in front of the nervous Iranian, the sky flashed brilliant red followed by a massive explosion one block away. Both men charged the distracted policeman. The man reacted slowly. Blomstein tackled him low, while Peter took his upper body, slamming him to the sidewalk hard. With a palm thrust hard into the policeman’s jaw cracking his skull, he was dead in seconds. Peter took his gun and ran to the car, which was still running, as Blomstein ran to the other side.
At the OC, the secondary screen bloomed as the fireball engulfed Abu Qatada’s home. There was a quick cheer, then everyone went to work to help recover the soldiers. Rachael didn’t care about anything else.
Pursuit
With the explosion behind them, the strike team raced in the car in the opposite direction of the responders coming from all directions. The policeman had just radioed their capture when the explosion occurred. Peter remembered some of the streets. He was pressing the accelerator hard, heading northwest using intersecting streets, looking for a familiar route out of the city. It would only be minutes before everything was blockaded.
As he turned onto the main boulevard past the train station, he could see military trucks coming from behind. They were all racing to the outskirts of the city to seal it off. He found a switch on the dash of the car that activated the lights and siren.
At the OC the blue symbols had changed for Peter and Blomstein, they had merged into a single blue triangle moving faster than before. Simmons ordered the screen returned to native display momentarily. As he and Rachael starred at the screen, they could see flashing police car lights driving fast on the streets. Simmons ordered the display changed again and the police car changed back into a blue triangle. He said, “That explains why they’re moving faster, they stole a police car.”
Rachael didn’t respond.
Simmons ordered, “I want AWACS and J-STARS on line ASAP!”
There were acknowledgments over the PA system. AWACS was an air force version of the 707 airliner with a large radar dish mounted on top capable of tracking aircraft within a two hundred fifty mile radius. Jointstars (J-STARS) was another 707 airframe with a synthetic-aperture radar installed below the fuselage that tracks all ground targets. Both aircraft had been airborne on the border, so Simmons was simply verifying their positions and alerting the crews.
As they watched the display, numerous red triangles appeared behind Shields’ car. Rachael was feeling sick again. Simmons began issuing orders, wanting to have regular updates on the status of the recovery helicopter and other assets. He ordered the Predator to remain “on station” as well. Everyone was calm but alert at the consoles. Orders were issued precisely.
On the mountain, Stokes had loaded the gear onto his back and was moving toward the landing zone. It had taken two hours to move before, but he was moving twice as fast this time. The Pave Hawk might have to provide air cover if Peter and Blomstein were in trouble.
On the streets, Peter drove as fast as possible, but cross streets were becoming hazardous, as emergency vehicles seemed to be moving in all directions ignoring signals. They needed to get out before everything was sealed. He turned off the radio, which was becoming congested with calls he could not understand. Lights in the mirrors showed that vehicles were starting to follow them.
He could see the end of street lighting ahead as he accelerated to a dangerous speed. In less than a minute, they would be out of the improved areas of the city, heading toward the recovery point, but they could not spend hours hiking into the mountains with military chasing them. He needed to get to his radio.
At the OC the PA system sounded, “Pave Hawk nearing the LZ, ETA four minutes.”
Simmons looked at the plot and commanded, “Have them land and conserve fuel, some of our boys are going to be late.”
A colonel at the nearest console said, “Sir, the Iranians will use airpower to take out the Hawk, delaying departure will endanger the crew.”
Simmons responded hotly, “We’re not leaving our boys behind!”
No one wanted to argue with a three star at that point.
After a moment, Simmons ordered, “G
et Central Command on the horn. Expedite!”
Moments later the PA blared, “Sir, CENTCOM on line one.”
He picked up the handset, “Simmons.”
Rachael listened as Simmons demonstrated his leadership by chewing out a Brigadier General in Baghdad, “Look, Buck, I don’t give a flying fuck about your opinion, get two Raptors on the flightline with a full load. If we need them, I’m going to use them.” He listened to objections again and shouted, “Then screw the State Department, I don’t give a shit if they think I declared war on Iran personally.”
Simmons slammed the phone down and continued looking at the situation board. Rachael was confused with all of the actions being taken, and stayed in the background.
She could see that Peter was in a desperate situation in a car, unarmed with a whole country’s military about to pounce on him. She felt hopeless.
Both men in the stolen police car were straining to see behind. Numerous vehicles were chasing them. Peter yelled, “Josh, help me find that dirt road!”
“Roger that boss.” Blomstein remained a cool character. Moments later, Blomstein yelled, “There it is! Turn hard right—now!”
The car nearly rolled over, skidding onto the dirt road. Peter pressed the accelerator down harder as the suspension bottomed several times, but the car held together. They could see muzzle flashes from behind, but none had hit the car yet. Then the back window exploded in