SEAL Team Six Hunt the Falcon(79)

Sutter sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Be here at 6 a.m. tomorrow. We’re flying up to Langley. Plan to spend the night.”



He sprung out of bed at 0430, jogged through the woods, showered, shaved, and dressed in his only black suit. Three hours later he saw the spires of the Capitol building and the Washington Monument piercing the morning fog, which filled him with pride. Great men had lived, fulfilled their dreams, and died in this city. He didn’t pretend to be as wise or as important as they were, but he considered it an honor to be part of the tradition of service to a great ideal.

Outside the Dulles terminal, he and his CO in a khaki uniform climbed into the waiting black sedan. At CIA headquarters, they walked over the great white-and-gray marble seal in the lobby and past the Wall of Honor, which listed the names of CIA agents killed in action. Crocker had known some of them, including Mike Spann, who had died fighting off Taliban prisoners in northern Afghanistan in late 2001.

Their footsteps echoed through the glass-enclosed atrium where one-sixth-scale models of the U-2, A-12, and D-21 spy planes were suspended overhead. An aide in a dark blue suit waited at the elevator to escort them up to a fourth-floor conference room.

Lou Donaldson, Jim Anders, Sy Blanc, and Leslie Walker welcomed the two men. Crocker thought Ms. Walker looked even more attractive than the last time he’d seen her, with her long brown hair pulled back, wearing a tight charcoal gray pantsuit and white blouse. He was introduced to a half dozen other analysts from CIA, a man and a woman from the National Security Agency, two agents from FBI, a woman from Homeland Security. When the deputy director of the National Security Council arrived with a young African American aide, they all took their seats.

Donaldson opened the meeting by saying that no one in the room was authorized to discuss any of the information that would be covered with anyone except those present. Then he introduced General Brad Nathans, deputy director of the NSC.

Crocker had never met Nathans but had heard a lot about him. He knew he was a former marine general who had served in the First Gulf War and the invasion of Iraq, and had subsequently lost his right arm in a terrorist bombing in Kuwait. Nathans was reputed to be a brilliant strategist, a military historian, and a tireless worker. More important, he was part of the president’s trusted inner circle.

Nathans cleared his throat and, speaking from notes, repeated what Sutter had told Crocker about the arrest of the Unit 5000 operatives in New Orleans and the seizure of weapons, sarin, and explosives. Then he went further, explaining that three more people had been arrested in the New Orleans area. Two had recently entered the country on student visas. The other was a U.S. citizen.

The man from FBI pointed out that the investigation was ongoing and more arrests were expected. “This was a complex and wide-ranging conspiracy,” he warned. “It could have been devastating. Thank God those men were stopped in El Paso, because they were primarily responsible for carrying out the attacks in New Orleans. The other people we’ve arrested, with the exception maybe of one of the students, were playing support roles—moving money, renting rooms and vehicles, storing supplies. We’re almost one hundred percent sure this operation was baked in Iran.”

An eerie hush filled the room. Even though all the people there were tough professionals, they seemed deeply affected by what they had just heard.

The general cleared his throat and deepened his voice. “Nothing I say from this point on can leave this room. Nothing. Understood?”

Everyone nodded.

“One of the individuals we’re holding has told us that the Quds Force, and Unit 5000 in particular, is planning more attacks against the U.S.”

Crocker knew that despite increased patrols and updated technology, the long borders the United States shares with Mexico and Canada were still relatively porous. The fact that an organization as devious and capable as the Quds Force had launched a program to infiltrate terrorists and bombers into the States scared him.

“When and where are these attacks likely to occur?” Sy Blanc asked.

“The man we’re holding claims he doesn’t know,” Donaldson answered. “But the president has decided to take the gloves off. He’s had enough.”

Crocker liked the tone of his remarks so far, but wondered where this was going.

Nathans said, “Some of you here have heard of Scimitar.”

Crocker looked at Sutter, sitting beside him, who shook his head. He didn’t know about it either.

“Scimitar,” Nathans explained, “is a top-secret group of anti-regime Iranian operatives that the CIA has organized, supplied, funded, and supported inside Iran. It’s Lou’s baby, so I’ll let him tell you about it.”