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  Ryder was now definitely intrigued by the whole business. “Do we not even have an inkling what they intend? I’ll need to have some idea if I’m to get them in, sir.”

  “You will be told everything you need to know once you arrive in Turkey.” Conway glanced at his chief of staff. “However, from our point of view, at a guess, we suspect they intend to disrupt Iran’s nuclear programme somehow. Although the IAIC have access they feel they are not being allowed to see the full picture; the Americans are not prepared to go to war over that – not yet anyway.”

  “Sir, with the Israelis wanting to destroy the known facilities, why are they being prevented?” asked Ryder, taking another sip of his drink.

  “Because with everything else going on in the Middle East, particularly the ISIS problem who they believe is being secretly backed by the Iranians despite the overtures they want to help; the so-called Arab spring; political aspirations of the many other terrorist groups, and, of course, the stirring of religious tribal differences. If the Israelis did that it would probably be the last straw and all-out war would erupt involving all the Arab nations, Iran itself, and, eventually, sucking in the big four. The Cousins firmly believe, and we do too, that the Iranians are definitely trying to build a nuclear arsenal despite the current president’s conciliatory rhetoric. They have not stopped forming sleeper cells and encouraging terrorism and instability in the Yemen, Oman and in Africa and the Middle East in general. Forecasters also reckon they’re attempting to encircle the whole Arabian Peninsular and eventually take over, which will include wiping Israel off the face of the earth. Once they have sufficient stock of nuclear warheads, their intention, no doubt, is to rebuild the Persian Empire and be on a par with the big four. It is only a matter of time before they strike and Israel will be the first to go.”

  “Sir, what about the current softening of relations between the two?” asked Ryder. “As I understand it the Iranians have already started to decommission existing centrifuges and stop building new ones, thus ‘neutralising’ their stockpiles of twenty per cent enriched uranium.”

  “Twenty per cent is within several steps of reaching weapons-grade, the Americans want that down to below five, suitable only for domestic purposes. After months of haggling they believe, and so do others, that Iran is just stalling for time, both for relief from the crippling sanctions and to achieve weapons-grade fission material. The Americans believe the regime can never be trusted with the means to enrich uranium. They’ve had enough of their huffing and puffing. The Iranians cannot be trusted even with a treaty in place and will say and do anything to achieve nuclear parity and at the same time reduce the pain of sanctions. Once they achieve it that’ll be it; the Iranians will have leverage and the means to seriously threaten the rest of us: there will be no going back after that.”

  Ryder had to agree. Of the Iranians he’d encountered, most were devious bastards.

  “When do I leave?”

  “Immediately; you’re on the red-eye to Istanbul, departs from Heathrow in less than four hours. You’ll be fully briefed when you arrive in Turkey.” The chief of staff handed Ryder all the necessary travel documents. “Once in Istanbul the Cousins will contact you and airlift you to the starter base.”

  Conway fixed Ryder with a confident look and a half-smile. “That will be all, Frank. Enjoy the holiday. Good luck.”

  The chauffeur dropped Ryder off at his flat in Battersea, waited whilst he gathered some clean clothes and packed bare necessities, then drove him to Heathrow. Once again no time to prepare, but at least he thought it would be a relatively soft assignment. This time his involvement would be minimal and hopefully he could expect to be back in London in less than two weeks.

  4

  Ryder nodded at the group of Green Beret commandos as he entered the makeshift briefing room at the partly disused Turkish Air Force Base at Bajirge near the eastern border with Iran. Tough looking bunch, he thought. ‘Rambos’ and ‘Snake Eaters’ some called them, but most of those he’d worked with were good, honest warriors; team players accustomed to dirty, unconventional warfare. Taking a seat behind a desk on the raised dais beside Colonel Jake Hamilton, commander of C Company, he waited for him to open the briefing.

  “Good evening,” the colonel said, shuffling papers. “Gentlemen, you already know you’re going into Iran, but I can now give you the targets and their specifics. These have been held back at the insistence of the top brass for the sensitivity of the operation and for other reasons I’m not even prepared to guess at.” He glanced at each of the twelve men before him. “But first, I would explain briefly why the delay in getting the mission underway. The reason: our networks in Tehran have been seriously compromised, so much so, we could not proceed as planned. But I can now confirm we are back on track and the mission has the go, thanks to the Brits and, in particular, this man here.” He motioned towards Ryder. “This is Frank Ryder from British intelligence. They have agreed to let us use their networks instead. Frank’s knowledge of the lingo, his experience of the local cells and the operational area will be invaluable.”

  Ryder nodded again at the group. He felt surprisingly alert after the long flight to Istanbul, the hurried transfer through the American military reception and then the uncomfortable flight straight here to the base in a C-17 Globemaster. Ushered into this briefing as soon as he had touched down and eager to find out what this operation was all about, he nevertheless had every intention of hitting the sack once it was over.

  The colonel continued after a short pause and came straight to the point, “Your mission: to knock out two dams on the Jajrood and Karaj Rivers in the Elburz Mountains north of Tehran.”

  Murmurs of surprise rippled around the room.

  Ryder was stunned.

  The colonel, in his late forties, stood and moved his tall, rangy frame to the wall behind. Pulling back a curtain, the wall displayed regional and local maps of the Tehran area together with coloured photographs of hydro dams. Using a laser pointer on a large scale map showing the Jajrood and Karaj Rivers, he highlighted the targets. “The plan is to hit both dams simultaneously. Normally we would use two detachments, one for each target, but in the interest of security – ‘need-to-know’ syndrome – and to keep numbers down, we’ve decided to divide Detachment A into two groups. Captain Cane will lead the group to hit the Latyan on the Jajrood and Lieutenant Owen, the Amir Kabir on the Karaj.”

  He placed the pointer on the map approximately twenty miles north-east of Tehran. “Blowing the Latyan will do the most damage.” He moved the pointer to the huge reservoir lake behind and then to an aerial shot of the dam itself. “As you can see the dam holds back a lot of water.” He then turned and pointed to a detached blueprint of the dam. “The dam itself has seventeen intakes. Thirteen are used to generate power, the other four are flow-control gates. The maximum flow is 250,000 cubic feet of water per second. 125,000 watts of power can be generated through the turbines into the grid. The dam is approximately 385 feet high.” The colonel turned to face the group. “Your objective is to release specially designed explosive devices into the lake where the currents should take them down through the penstocks to explode when reaching the turbine level. If only one of the devices enters a penstock and explodes, the experts think it will be enough to cause progressive deterioration and hopefully destruction of the majority of turbines, plus partial collapse of the structure. You’ll be taking two to each dam. Until activated they’re harmless.”

  “What are the devices and how can you be sure they’ll float to the target?” questioned Captain Cane: muscular, of medium build with short, dark hair, whose suntanned, weathered features suggested a life spent mostly outdoors.

  “The devices will be modified Mk-54 SADMs – very low yield and clean.”

  “Holy shit!” exclaimed Sergeant First Class Clint Kellar, his big frame, broad shoulders and long arms giving him the nickname ‘Bear’. “You telling us we’ll be humping nuclear bombs through hostile territory?”


  Ryder recalled the US having developed various types of SADMs (Special Atomic Demolition Munition): a lightweight, nuclear, one-man portable device, designed late in the last century mainly to destroy power plants, bridges and dams. To his knowledge they had never been used in actual combat.

  The colonel ignored the sergeant’s outburst; it was normal in Special Forces’ briefings. “It’s calculated that 10 tons of payload in each – the equivalent of 20,000 pounds of TNT – set to explode in the bowels of the dams will disable the system enough to grind everything to a standstill. I’m told the force of the blast inside all that mass of concrete will be controlled and only affect the immediate area. If the external concrete lining fails, it’s hoped the Iranians might think natural causes, or a blown turbine. I understand the Latyan was constructed in the early 1960s and Amir Kabir around the same time.

  “How’re they activated?” asked Master Sergeant Brady.

  “Manually – timer switch – just before releasing into the water, then automatically short-fused on passing the intake grilles.” The colonel turned to Cane. “Now, to answer the second part of your question: a computer-controlled flotation device within the casing will determine the downward path in relation to the currents and flow patterns by releasing compressed air from compartments welded inside the casing.”

  “Are they heavy, and how will we get them to the water’s edge?” asked Lieutenant Owen, a lean, upright man, strong featured with fairish hair and a clipped moustache. He reminded Ryder of a typical British Army officer – a Rupert in fact, who’d been with 22 SAS.

  “Each is circular, a foot in diameter and weighing 40 pounds, light enough to carry on backs in a specially designed harness. How you get them to the water’s edge will be for you to decide after assessing the local situation.”

  The lieutenant nodded then looked at Ryder. “Hopefully the cells will guide us on that one.”

  Ryder acknowledged. He was beginning to feel the enormity of the task; he did not envy these men at all.

  The colonel continued, “As you can see, both rivers skirt the city. Should both of the dams break, the surge created by the combined failure would cause major havoc in these low lying areas to the immediate south.” He moved the pointer around the triangular area formed by the Amir Kabir Dam, approximately thirty-five miles to the north-west of Tehran and the Latyan Dam some twenty miles north-east of Tehran. “These areas will take the full brunt of the devastation expected. Even if only one fails it will cause some degree of havoc.”

  “What are the main industries in those areas?” asked Sergeant Oscar Sicano, clean-cut, dark features staring intently at the colonel. He was not that far behind the size of the man they call ‘Bear’. To Ryder, these elite warriors seem to get bigger every time he has the occasion to join them.

  “Cement, petrochemicals, oil refining, textiles, food processing. It’s also an area for livestock products: meat, milk, etc.”

  “What are the estimates on loss of life?” Cane asked.

  “The rural population is pretty widespread, so it’s not expected to be high – if any. Tehran and surrounding areas have around ten million inhabitants crammed into less than 15,000 square miles. It’s the country’s most densely populated region. However, the capital is a bit too far away to be seriously affected by a burst. Even if they clean up quickly the general opinion is it will take years to recover. The dams provide the region’s drinking water and most of its electrical power. Denying the population these basics on a large enough scale will hopefully frustrate their nuclear research facilities and other associated activities for a long time. Langley predicts resources and energy needed to put everything right again will deter any thoughts of nuclear parity for a while, at least. They also want to do it before the Israelis take matters into their own hands and bomb the known facilities. The powers that be don’t want another regional war.”

  “How far away from the intakes would the SADMs be released?” Lieutenant Owen questioned.

  “Half a mile hoping the drifting mechanism works, otherwise they’ll drop to the bed. The most effective way would be to release from the top of the dams, but that would have a big risk factor. You’ll need to gauge that risk once in place.”

  “Not much time to clear if we did, I guess,” said Master Sergeant Jed Brady, angular, acned features looking hard at the colonel.

  “As I said: the resulting explosion would be confined to the bowels, depending on when the devices blow and the extent of a chain reaction. You should clear the immediate dam areas as soon as you release the devices.”

  “Latyan looks to be almost a 1000 yards across. We’d have to move fast to clear in time,” said Kellar.

  “I would strongly recommend against releasing the devices from the top of this dam,” said the colonel, moving the pointer to the aerial of the Amir Kabir Dam. “Somewhat less in length, but the same applies.”

  For a few moments there was silence.

  Ryder could not help but wonder, why undertake what could turn out to be a very risky operation when the Americans could use the Stuxnet virus. This 500-kilobyte malware computer worm had infected the operating software of a number of high-profile industrial sites in Iran, including the Bushehr power plant where uranium-enrichment was reportably taking place.

  Colonel Hamilton walked back to the table. “Once the devices are released it’ll probably take an hour, or so, before the dams are breached – if they breach. During that time the local cells will hopefully have you well on the way to the extraction point – the same place you were dropped.”

  “The insertion point?” asked Captain Cane.

  “Forty miles south-east of Tabriz and 200 miles east of here; the heli will fly low at night over the Urmia Valley, hugging the ground all the way.”

  “How reliable and secure are these cells?” asked Sicano.

  Hamilton looked at Ryder for a response.

  “Very, they desperately want democracy,” he answered. “Events in the Middle East have spurred them on and they’ll do anything to achieve it. I helped set up some of the cells but security is always a problem. Even though they operate separately we continue to lose some through infiltration. Tehran is an extremely dangerous place. However, we’ve never had a problem, those guys have big balls; they know their stuff.”

  “I trust we’ll avoid another ‘Desert One’ then,” Sicano said, referring to the failed mission to recover American hostages from Tehran in 1980 when the rescue helicopters crashed on landing in the desert south of the Iranian capital, killing several Special Forces operatives and causing a great deal of embarrassment to the Carter Administration.

  “We have learnt from that unfortunate episode,” Hamilton replied.

  “Good to hear, Colonel.”

  The colonel looked around, “Any more questions on Latyan?”

  Silence.

  “Okay, let’s move on.” He turned back to the wall and pointed to an aerial photograph of the Amir Kabir Dam. “The concrete structure has a crest of over 700 yards long, has ten intakes to generate power and three to control flow. The height tops at almost 600 feet. The maximum through flow is around 120,000 cubic feet per second.”

  “Will two devices be enough?” questioned Owen.

  “Yep, as with Latyan, only one will need to explode to cause progressive destruction.”

  “Does it matter from which side of the lakes we release?” asked one of the team.

  “No, I’m told the currents will guide the devices into the centre anyhow.”

  Another silence; the colonel turned to Ryder.

  He took the cue and cleared his throat, “Thank you, Colonel. The important thing is to make sure you blend in with the local scene, work closely with the cells. Trust them, do what they tell you; it could be the difference between life and death. First contact will be with one of our Tabriz cells who will transport you by road to a safe house in Tehran, a journey of some 300 miles. From then on you will be in the hands of several separate
cells. I’ll remain with you until the last phase before you head directly for the targets. Oh, and brush up on your Farsi.” He paused, not sure how his next comment would go down. “It will also be advisable to be only lightly armed.”

  “Why? What happens if we’re blown?” Brady asked.

  “The need is to blend in so you won’t have to use them. Weapons must be concealed. No RPGs and the like.”

  Nervous laughter; Ryder knew full well Special Forces like to be adequately armed. It lessened the risks.

  “Unless it’s at the RV you won’t stand a chance of escape. Even heavily armed you can count on there being too many,” Ryder finished and referred back to the colonel.

  “As soon as you release the devices don’t hang around, get the hell back to the RV. Should the structures fail there’ll be major chaos. Make sure you get out fast.” He paused to look at each man in turn. “You leave in twenty-four hours. Until then study the information packs you’ll be given shortly showing detailed maps of the terrain around the dams, including roads in the surrounding areas, etc. Study them thoroughly. You’ll remain in your designated quarters. You are now in total lock-down until we leave.” He paused, then, “Any further questions?”

  Silence again.

  “None…? Good. The code-word for the operation is: Overflow. That will be all for now.”

  Ryder stood, left the dais and followed the others out, still a little shocked by the intended operation, glad his role was non-offensive and would end on reaching the Iranian capital. Not exactly ‘a working holiday’ as the boss had put it, but close enough he supposed. It was now time to catch up on some badly needed sleep.

  5

  The MH-53M Pave Low helicopter took off in darkness from Bajirge and swung east. On board, huddled in the fuselage, sat Frank Ryder with Captain Cane and the eleven-man team listening to the throb of the twin-turbo engines as the helicopter gained speed and headed towards the Iranian border. Operation Overflow was underway. Each man wore typical Iranian working-men clothing: battered jeans, loose cotton shirts, cloth caps and old leather shoes. Concealed beneath the shirt, a M9000S Beretta automatic compact pistol together with Kaybar knife tucked into the waistband. The crew, part of the USAF’s elite 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment (SOAR), commonly referred to as Night Stalkers, were trained to infiltrate and operate in the hostile territory they were about to enter. With its array of electronic jamming devices, radar detection systems and computers, the MH-53M, even on the darkest of nights and in the worst kind of weather, could closely follow the terrain using the most sophisticated navigational aids available.