Damascus Countdown

  “No,” the president said firmly. “Not yet. Don’t talk to the Israelis. They should be calling us to give us a heads-up on this. But they haven’t, and it’s going to cost them. I’m sick and tired of Asher Naphtali driving the agenda in the Middle East. I warned him not to strike Iran first, but he wouldn’t listen. Now the whole world is against him, and he’s going to start losing public opinion here in the U.S., too.”

  Surprised by how vehement the president was, Allen tried a different angle to get permission to call Dayan and open a back-channel dialogue. But Jackson wouldn’t hear of it. His relationship with Naphtali had always been strained, but this, Allen feared, could prove a very troubling turning point. “Sir, at the very least I need to let them know we’ve got two of their Mossad agents in custody,” Allen pressed.

  “Why?” the president shot back. “They were interfering in one of our operations. They’re lucky they’re not dead. I’ll tell the Israelis when I’m good and ready, but I’m certainly not going to tell them now.”

  “Mr. President, it’s not just about these two agents,” Allen noted as tactfully as he could. “It’s about the information we’ve recovered from Omid Jazini’s apartment. We now know the warheads are being moved to the Al-Mazzah air base in Damascus. We know, or at least we strongly believe, that the Mahdi is headed to the same base. We can surmise, therefore, that the Iranians and the Syrians are getting ready to attach those two warheads to missiles, probably to some Scud-Cs. The probability that they will be fired at Israel in the next twenty-four hours is very, very high.”

  “What are you saying?” the president asked.

  “I’m asking what you want us to do to stop it, sir,” Allen replied. “I can brief the defense secretary and the joint chiefs. I’m certain we can provide all the intel they’d need to launch a decisive air strike against the Al-Mazzah base in the next few hours. But it seems only fair that we at least let the Israelis in on what we know so they can be on full alert.”

  “Roger, you’re out of line,” said the president. “Your job is to give me information and analysis. But the CIA doesn’t make policy. I make policy.”

  “I understand, sir,” Allen replied, “but I’m just trying to—”

  The president cut him off. “I know what you’re trying to do, and I’m telling you it’s not your place. You want me to launch an attack against Damascus and the Mahdi? You want us to start a whole new war? That’s not what the American people want from me. I was elected to prevent wars in the Middle East, not start new ones or pour fuel on fires already burning.”

  Then the president turned to Murray and asked, “Where did you get this footage? Has it been broadcast to the world yet?”

  “No, sir,” Murray said. “We intercepted it from a state-run news crew on the scene. They were uploading it to the main studio. We have intercepted phone calls from the Ayatollah’s office authorizing this footage to be shown at 7 a.m. to lead the morning news.”

  “How long from now is that?”

  “About twenty minutes, sir.”

  The president suddenly stood, catching the others off guard and forcing them to stand as well.

  “We need to drive this story,” said the president. “We need to leak it, and then we need to manage it.”

  He turned to his chief of staff and told him to provide everything they knew—including the video footage—to the Associated Press, New York Times, and CNN.

  “Actually, start with CNN, but make certain there are no White House or CIA fingerprints on this,” the president insisted. “Give it to these reporters on deep background, but make sure the story begins to break quickly, before the Iranians break it. That’s why I’d recommend you go with CNN first. Then, once the news does break, we’ll be asked to comment. At that point, call the White House press corps in immediately. I want to make a statement and take questions. This war has to stop. The Israelis have to stand down. And right now I’m the only one who can make that happen. You gentlemen are dismissed. Good night.”

  DAMASCUS, SYRIA

  While it was still late Sunday evening in Washington, it was dawn in Damascus. The warmth of the rising sun was beginning to creep through the windows of the guest room to which Birjandi had been assigned, but he hadn’t slept. He remained now where he had been all night, on his knees at the foot of the bed, earnestly pleading for the Lord to end this war and protect the people of Israel and protect all the people of this region from the genocidal plans of the Twelfth Imam. Birjandi had long warned the men he discipled that “the most dangerous corridor on the planet is the corridor between Tehran and Tel Aviv,” and tragically his instincts were being proved correct.

  The more he prayed for God’s grace, the more the Twenty-Third Psalm burned in his heart. Throughout the night, he had found himself repeating it from memory every few hours, meditating on its meaning, chewing on it again and again, savoring every word and every nuance, and now he did so again.

  “‘The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,’” Birjandi said to himself, not wanting even to whisper lest he be overheard by agents of the Mukhabarat. “‘He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; my cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.’”

  What weighed most heavily on his heart and soul was the fact that in just a matter of hours, the Mahdi would arrive and summon him for their first face-to-face meeting. The Mahdi would be expecting to meet a true disciple, a faithful servant and supplicant, not just a Twelver but Shia’s leading authority on the Twelfth Imam and Islamic eschatology. Birjandi desperately needed Christ’s wisdom. He didn’t want to go to such a meeting with a demon-possessed tyrant at all, but he was beginning to resign himself to the fact that the Lord might be in this, that the Lord might actually be preparing a table before him in the presence of his enemies. If that was really the case, then he certainly didn’t want to enter such a meeting in his own strength. He wanted to truly be able to say, “I will fear no evil; for you are with me.”

  As he repeated his favorite psalm for the umpteenth time, another passage came to mind, a piece of Scripture he had not thought of even once in recent months. The verse was John 12:49, where Jesus said, “The Father who sent me has commanded me what to say and how to say it.” At first, it struck Birjandi as odd. Why had that passage occurred to him, and why now? He knew that Jesus loved the Father and did only what the Father wanted him to do. There was nothing new in that truth. But then it struck him that he had never really applied the verse to himself. He was not, after all, a public speaker, or at least he had not been for many years since retiring from the seminary and since the passing of Souri and his decision to live a more reclusive life. But as he reconsidered the verse and its meaning for the moment, Birjandi realized that he had literally no idea what to say to the Mahdi, nor how to say it. He certainly didn’t want to guess. He wanted—or more precisely, he desperately needed—the Father to command him what words to speak, to fill him with the Holy Spirit and give him the power and authority to say what needed to be said.

  The forty-ninth verse in the twelfth chapter of John suddenly became very precious to Birjandi in a way that it never had before. For Birjandi had no illusions. The simple truth was that he could not reasonably expect to come out of that meeting alive if he were to maintain his testimony for Jesus. To profess his love for and allegiance to Christ in the presence of the Mahdi meant his head would surely be separated from his shoulders. He thought he was ready. He wanted to be ready. But he prayed more earnestly than ever before that the Lord would make him readier still by giving him supernatural grace and courage to remain faithful to his Lord
and Savior Jesus Christ to the very end.

  And then, after hours on his knees in prayer, Birjandi felt the fog beginning to lift from his thoughts. As the rays of fresh, sparkling sunlight began to warm his face, he could feel the Spirit of God speaking directly to his heart, explaining what was happening and why and some of what was about to happen next.

  WASHINGTON, D.C.

  “This is CNN breaking news. Live from London, here’s senior international correspondent Karan Singh.”

  President Jackson and several senior aides huddled in the Situation Room, watching a bank of television monitors and working on a statement the president would make to the White House press corps in a few minutes. But the report on CNN was not playing out anything like they had anticipated.

  “Good evening to our CNN viewers in North America, and good day to the rest of our viewers around the world,” Singh began. “We have breaking news this hour out of Kabul, Afghanistan. CNN has learned that the Twelfth Imam and the president of Pakistan have been engaged in high-level talks there throughout the night, and . . . Hold on. . . . My producer tells me the two leaders are about to make a joint statement. There is an unconfirmed report moving on the wires right now that Pakistan has decided to join the Caliphate, but again, this is an unconfirmed report. Let’s go now to a live feed of a press event now under way in the Afghan capital of Kabul.”

  No one in the Situation Room was paying any attention to the draft of the president’s statement. Every eye was riveted on President Farooq as he appeared on all the American cable and broadcast TV news networks and many overseas networks as well. Farooq proceeded to announce Pakistan’s decision to turn over full control of its immense nuclear arsenal to the Twelfth Imam. It took a moment for the horrifying truth to register, but as it did, the president demanded to be connected to Roger Allen at the CIA immediately.

  “Are you watching this?” Jackson asked.

  “Tom and I just pulled into Langley,” Allen said. “We’re not near a TV yet, but Tom’s got Jack Zalinsky on the other line. He’s translating Farooq for us right now.”

  “It’s a doomsday scenario.”

  “I’d have to agree, sir.”

  “What are our options?” the president asked.

  “For that you need the SecDef and the joint chiefs, sir.”

  “Roger, I’m asking you. Privately. Man to man. What would you recommend right now?”

  “Honestly?”

  “Honestly. Give it to me straight.”

  “Mr. President, if it were me, I’d direct the SecDef to contact Carrier Strike Group Nine. They’re currently operating in the Indian Ocean. I’d order the launch of two F/A-18 fighter jets off the USS Abraham Lincoln to race for Kabul. In the meantime, I’d direct my guys to find out exactly where that live press conference is happening and take out the Mahdi and Farooq right now before they can do any harm. I’d guess we have about thirty minutes. Otherwise, we’re about to go from a madman in the Middle East with two nuclear warheads to a madman running a nuclear superpower with more than 300 nuclear missiles, some of them long-range.”

  Jackson said nothing. He had no idea what to say or do. Part of him knew Allen was right. They had a very narrow window to take action, if they were going to take action at all. But how could he justify killing two leaders in one strike when neither had directly attacked the United States of America? Some in Washington believed in the doctrine of preemption, but Jackson had risen to political power opposing such a doctrine with every fiber of his being. His critics berated him for being “in over his head.” If he didn’t move decisively now, they would have a field day at his expense. The political price to him and his administration could be catastrophic. But if he ordered a military strike, wouldn’t he be ceding the very principle over which he had taken Naphtali to the woodshed?

  Even as he considered his rapidly shrinking set of options and weighed the costs of each, a news flash was scrolling across the bottom of the screen on CNN. “EXCLUSIVE: CNN has learned that five Iranian children in Tehran have been killed in an Israeli missile strike. . . . Ayatollah Hosseini has denounced Israel for ‘stepping over a line’ and has vowed to ‘accelerate the collapse of the Zionist entity’ by turning Israel into a ‘crematorium.’ . . . Israeli leaders have not yet commented on the record, but one unnamed senior military official told CNN that it was possible there had been a ‘mistake’ and the IDF was ‘taking a careful look at the accusation.’”

  Jackson’s knuckles were white as they gripped the armrests of his chair. Events were rapidly spiraling out of control. It was not difficult to imagine the Mahdi launching nuclear missiles at Israel—possibly dozens of them—from Pakistan at any moment. His own press conference, therefore, was obviously off. Jackson couldn’t possibly go out there now and denounce the Israelis and call for a cease-fire. He couldn’t threaten to side with the Russians and the Chinese at the United Nations and support a U.N. Security Council resolution condemning Israel for its “targeting of civilians.” That had been his plan. But in an instant the dynamic had changed, and Jackson felt paralyzed, entirely unsure what to do next and bitterly aware that time was not on his side.

  39

  DAMASCUS, SYRIA

  Dr. Birjandi stopped praying, got off his knees, rose to his feet, and began pacing the guest room, trying to get his mind around the enormity of what the Lord had just revealed to him. The end of Damascus had come. Indeed, its utter destruction was imminent.

  The Lord had spoken to him from two Old Testament passages—Isaiah 17 and Jeremiah 49. As Birjandi padded back and forth from one end of his little guest suite to the other, the old man chastised himself for being so focused on teaching his disciples about the prophetic future of Iran that he had failed to ponder the prophetic future of Syria. In his defense, of course, it was only in the last few hours that he had even considered the possibility that Syria was going to be a critical element in this war. So far President Mustafa had not launched an all-out offensive against the Israelis, and Birjandi’s thoughts had thus far not been drawn to the Syrian leader or the Syrian capital. But now that he was here, and now that the Lord had opened his eyes and allowed him to see a glimpse of what was coming, it was all beginning to make sense, and Birjandi’s fragile heart was racing.

  “‘The oracle concerning Damascus,’” Birjandi muttered to himself, reciting Isaiah 17:1. “Behold, Damascus is about to be removed from being a city and will become a fallen ruin,” the Lord God Almighty had declared through his prophet. The next few verses then revealed that the “fortified city” and the “sovereignty” of Damascus would “disappear” and “fade.”

  Souri had once read to him another translation of the first few verses of Isaiah 17, and these were even more clear.

  A Message concerning Damascus: “Watch this: Damascus undone as a city, a pile of dust and rubble! Her towns emptied of people. The sheep and goats will move in and take over the towns as if they owned them—which they will! . . . Not a trace of government left in Damascus.”

  As Birjandi then recalled the prophecies of Jeremiah 49:23-27 from memory, he found them just as chilling.

  Concerning Damascus. “Hamath and Arpad are put to shame, for they have heard bad news; they are disheartened. There is anxiety by the sea, it cannot be calmed. Damascus has become helpless; she has turned away to flee, and panic has gripped her; distress and pangs have taken hold of her like a woman in childbirth. How the city of praise has not been deserted, the town of My joy! Therefore, her young men will fall in her streets, and all the men of war will be silenced in that day,” declares the Lord of hosts. “I will set fire to the wall of Damascus, and it will devour the fortified towers of Ben-hadad.”

  Not once but twice in the Holy Scriptures, the Lord had foretold the utter and complete future destruction of Damascus. The second of the prophecies clearly indicated the destruction would come by fire. Yet neither prophecy had ever been fulfilled. Yes, Damascus had been attacked and conquered numerous times throughout his
tory, but it had never been utterly destroyed and made uninhabitable. To the contrary, Birjandi knew that Damascus was one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities on the planet, if not the oldest.

  As Birjandi considered both texts, he found it odd that neither passage gave a direct indication of when the prophecies would come to pass. The prophecies of Ezekiel 38 and 39, by contrast, said Iran’s military (among others) would be judged by the God of Israel in “the last days” of history. Indeed, the prophecies of Jeremiah 49:34-39—also about the future judgment of Iran’s leaders—were specifically described as happening in “the last days.” Yet as Birjandi reviewed the prophecies regarding Damascus again and again, he found no specific time reference in either passage.

  Still, what was important, Birjandi reminded himself, was the context of both prophecies. The thirteenth chapter of Isaiah through at least the nineteenth chapter were all End Times prophecies, as far as Birjandi could tell. Isaiah 13 was about the future destruction of Babylon, and at least twice in that chapter the Hebrew prophet made reference to “the day of the Lord,” saying it was “near” and “coming,” indicating that these events would occur near but prior to the literal, physical, actual second coming of Jesus Christ back to earth. Isaiah 19, meanwhile, was about the coming judgment of Egypt followed by a tremendous spiritual awakening in Egypt in the End Times. Indeed, one of Birjandi’s favorite passages of Scripture, one that gave him hope for the future of the Middle East, was the last few verses of Isaiah 19, in which the Lord declared that after a time of tyranny in Egypt and subsequent judgment, “the Lord will strike Egypt, striking but healing; so they will return to the Lord, and He will respond to them and will heal them.” What a blessed future that foretold.