“What’s the horse’s name?”
“What’s It 2 Ya.”
“Cool name.”
“How you feeling, Crocker? Sit down.”
“Fine.”
“You talk to Dr. Petrovian?”
“I did.”
“He help you get your head screwed on straight?”
“He tried. Said some of the threads have worn out, which is why it wobbles a little when I walk.”
“Sounds like you’re okay,” Sutter said. “Either that, or you’ve lost your mind.”
Crocker felt better just sitting in the CO’s office. Being called in usually meant he had an upcoming mission. This time it might mean he was being put out to pasture like one of Sutter’s brother’s racehorses.
Sutter said, “I wanted to tell you what I know about the three men you encountered in the tunnel.”
Crocker sipped from the bottle of water he’d brought with him. He hadn’t given the men a lot of thought since he’d been home. In fact, he couldn’t remember their faces. But he did vividly recall the tunnel ceiling falling and the feeling of suffocation. He had decided a long time ago that if he had to die, he’d rather catch a bullet and go quickly than suffocate or drown.
Sutter continued, “Although they were carrying Venezuelan passports with new names, they were really Iranian members of Unit 5000.”
“I believe I knew that already, sir.”
“The FBI used contact information recovered in El Paso to find and arrest two more individuals living in New Orleans,” Sutter said, referring to a document on his desk. “They were also Iranian undercover operatives. They had magnetic bombs in their possession like the ones used in Thailand and Athens, and plans for detonating a number of explosive devices during the Mardi Gras parade and celebration. They also had sarin.”
Sarin is a colorless, odorless nerve agent that is extremely lethal when inhaled or absorbed through the skin—five hundred times more deadly than cyanide. Back in 1988, Saddam Hussein had bombarded the Kurdish city of Halabja in northern Iraq with bombs containing sarin that killed five thousand people within a matter of minutes.
Crocker leaned forward. “The FBI has been able to confirm that?” He had assumed that the Iranians were infiltrating the U.S. in order to carry out some long-term plan. He never thought they would be called on to act so soon.
“Yes.”
“Were they planning to carry out other attacks beyond New Orleans?”
“I heard that the attack on the parade was going to be used as a diversion for a larger and potentially more lethal attack on the Waterford 3 nuclear plant, which is roughly fifty miles northwest of the city.”
Crocker sat speechless as he considered the possible ramifications.
Sutter removed his glasses and folded his hands in front of him. He said, “The FBI and CIA believe there are more coming.”
“More attacks?”
Sutter nodded. “The president is furious. Donaldson thinks this is retaliation for some of the things the president has recently authorized in Iran,” he said, referring to the actions made by the CIA’s head of operations.
Crocker knew about the Stuxnet worm, a computer virus that had temporarily shut down Iran’s nuclear program. And he’d heard a rumor, which he hoped was true, that the virus had hit other targets in Iran, including IRGC headquarters.
“Donaldson is planning a response,” Sutter said.
“Good.” The United States and Iran had been waging a secret war for years now, and Crocker and his team had played a part in it, starting a year ago off the coast of Somalia and most recently in the tunnel under Ciudad Juárez.
“What’s the status of Black Cell?” Sutter asked, leaning back in his chair.
“Ritchie, Cal, and Tré are still healing. The rest of us are good to go.”
Sutter lowered his voice. “I want to warn you, Crocker, this op is likely to be highly dangerous. It’s unlike anything we’ve attempted before. I’d go so far as to classify it as a suicide mission—but I’m not sure Donaldson will tell you that.”
Crocker was on the edge of his seat. “Where, sir?”
“I can’t disclose that now. I want you to take a couple of days and think about it. You and your men have been through a number of bad shit storms already.”
“If this has to do with responding to Unit 5000, or if it involves confronting Alizadeh in any way,” Crocker said without hesitation, “I’m all in.”
Sutter shook his head like a concerned father. “I want you to sleep on this.”
“Sir, there’s no doubt in my mind that we’re ready.”