SEAL Team Six Hunt the Scorpion(43)
On August 3, 1987, SPOT satellite pictures confirmed that the plant, then known as Pharma 150, had been completed. Considered the largest chemical weapons facility in the Third World, at full capacity it could produce one hundred metric tons of sarin nerve gas a year. The Libyans had also constructed a metal fabrication plant nearby to produce bombs and artillery shells designed specifically to deliver chemical agents.
“Didn’t the Reagan administration threaten to bomb Pharma 150 in the late eighties if it wasn’t shut down?” Mancini asked.
“You’re correct,” Sandra said. “But before they had a chance to, the Libyan government claimed that a fire set by the United States had destroyed the plant. However, satellite imagery indicated only minor damage.”
“So the fire was a hoax.”
“That was the conclusion of your CIA, yes. Again the Reagan administration threatened to destroy it. In late 1990, Colonel Muammar Gaddafi announced that he was shutting the plant down, but not before it had produced an estimated hundred tons of mustard blister agent and sarin nerve gas.”
“Sneaky bastard.”
“The site was reopened in 1995 as a pharmaceutical plant, jointly run with Egypt’s El Nasr Pharmaceutical Chemicals Company, designed to produce medicines, detergents, and cleansers,” Sandra continued. “But we concluded that it was still capable of making chemical weapons.”
Ritchie: “Why am I not surprised?”
“In 2004, Libya signed the Chemical Weapons Convention. But leaked classified cables from Gaddafi’s government proved that they were not in compliance and still possessed 9.5 metric tons of mustard gas, an unknown quantity of phosgene gas, and sarin nerve agent, most of which was stored at Pharma 150.”
Ritchie: “We should have leveled it back in the eighties.”
Crocker asked, “What’s the status of the facility now?”
“An Italian company called SIPSA Engineering has been pressuring the interim government to sign a contract for destruction of all chemical agents at Pharma 150. So far the contract hasn’t been signed,” Lundquist answered.
“So what’s our mission?” Crocker asked.
Remington leaned forward and answered, “One, make sure the chemical weapons stored there are secure. Two, inspect the nearby metal fabrication plant. We know that it hasn’t been open for years, but as far as I know, no one has eyeballed that particular plant in years, either.”
Lundquist said, “I’ve been there as recently as two months ago. There’s nothing to see at the metal fabrication plant. Ruins, a shed that some locals use to store grain, not much.”
Remington: “Dr. Jabril won’t be going with you, but he drew up a map of the fabrication plant. He says he helped run it back in the nineties.”
“Where’s Lasher?” Crocker asked.
“He and the doctor are out interviewing some former Gaddafi scientists.”
“And the city is safe?” Crocker asked.
“Toummo? It’s hardly a city. Barely qualifies as a village. It’s a desert border town. NATO has a base there to guard the uranium mines nearby. There’ve been some recent skirmishes with local tribesmen, raids across the border, but the Polish commander, Major Ostrowski, is firmly in charge. He’ll be your host.”
As Akil, Mancini, Davis, and Ritchie loaded their gear into the Suburban for the trip to the airport, Remington pulled Crocker into the kitchen.
“Keep close to Ms. Lundquist,” Remington said.
“That won’t be a problem. But…why?”
“She was attacked in the old quarter a couple of nights ago. A group of young men tried to force her into a car. She fought them off but is still a bit shaken.”
The Royal Canadian Air Force CC-130 took off with a roar that afternoon with Crocker and Mancini in the first row of seats; Davis, Akil, and Ritchie occupying the middle row; and Sandra Lundquist stretched out in the back row by herself. The space behind her was filled with jugs of water, propane tanks, and other supplies for the NATO camp. When she wasn’t talking on her cell phone she was typing on her laptop, frustrating Akil and Ritchie’s attempts to engage her in conversation. So they started ribbing Davis about getting his wife pregnant twice in less than a year.
Ritchie asked, “You ever hear about pulling out?”
Akil: “He can’t. He’s too quick.”
Ritchie: “You’ve got to learn to prolong it, enjoy it. Right, Manny?”
Mancini: “What do you two know about heterosexual love?”
Then they tried to get her attention by telling off-color jokes.
“Hey, you hear the one about the woman at home who hears a knock on her front door? She answers and sees a man standing there who asks: ‘Do you have a vagina?’ She slams the door in disgust. The next morning she hears another knock on the door. It’s the same man who asks, ‘Do you have a vagina?’ She slams the door again. That night when her husband gets home, she tells him what happened the last two days. Her husband tells his wife in a loving and concerned voice, ‘Honey, I’m staying home from work tomorrow, in case this idiot shows up again.’ The next morning, sure enough, there’s a knock on the door. The husband whispers to the wife, ‘I’ll hide behind the door. If he asks you the same question, answer yes.’ She opens the door and sure enough, the same man is standing there. He asks again, ‘Do you have a vagina?’ She answers yes. The man replies, ‘Good. Then would you mind telling your husband to leave my wife’s alone and start using yours?’ ”