16

 

US Naval Base

Manama, Bahrain

Vice Admiral Truxton paced back and forth across the floor of the command and control center in the middle of the base at Bahrain. He was careful to dodge the debris that had been pushed to one side. The entire base was in the middle of a billion-dollar retrofit—ordered at the conclusion of the recent conflict with Iran’s navy in the Strait of Hormuz—and there were parts loose in the center.

Truxton was on edge. The data from the unmanned X37B was being routed through their console at the base in Bahrain, and from there directly to the White House Situation Room and the joint chiefs at the Pentagon. But Truxton saw and heard it first. And what he was seeing and hearing was deeply troubling.

The X37B had been handling missions for the National Reconnaissance Office almost from the first prototype. Speculation had been rampant in the press that the unmanned mini-shuttle was some sort of space weapon. The truth was that it was infinitely more valuable as a deployable, movable spy sensor platform in space.

Combined with other electronic intelligence and news-gathering technology, or ELINT, that had progressed rapidly since the Second World War, the X37B could do very interesting things from a low orbit once it had a fixed target.

And right now, when the air force could not position planes anywhere near the house in Zahedan, where Bahadur was meeting with bin Rahman, the X37B was doing an awfully good job of listening in from its position in low orbit directly over the house. A highly engineered narrow-beam antenna, among other things, had given the ability to instantly pick up a mobile device call.

Bahadur had placed a call to Tehran on a highly secure mobile phone. The encryption didn’t matter. The call had been picked up and transmitted back from the X37B instantly.

It was clear from the electromagnetic data that bin Rahman was not heavily armed. In fact, he was traveling with virtually no protection whatsoever. But it was the very brief call from Bahadur to Tehran that had set Truxton on edge.

“General, I have news,” Bahadur had said the instant the call had connected.

“I understand. So the meeting went well?” the person at the other end had said. Truxton, and the analysts at his side, had assumed it was General Zhubin.

“As well as could be expected,” Bahadur had answered.

“And the news?”

“Not what we had expected.” Bahadur had paused. “Actually, not what any of us could possibly have expected—except perhaps our president.”

“Our president?”

“Yes, it is…something the president has spoken of on many occasions. It is what he has predicted. But I must confess, it makes no sense to me. I have never believed in the prophecies that speak of someone who can remain in hiding for hundreds of years. And I fail to see how this person can somehow emerge from the Jamkaran Mosque, as our president believes.”

There was a deepening silence as the person at the end of the line began to realize what Bahadur must have been speaking about. “I see. So you will share the information—how such a thing might be possible—with us when you return?”

“I will. But I have called to ask permission to bring our guest with us.”

“To Tehran?”

“Yes, to Tehran,” Bahadur had said. “He wishes to deliver the momentous news to the president himself. He is quite certain that it is a development our president has anticipated for several years. “

“So he is unable to return to Pakistan, then?”

“Not if he wishes to live. I, at least, am quite certain he wouldn’t make it much farther than the border. I’m sure our guest believes much the same thing.”

“But surely, we do not wish to bring the same sort of wrath down on our heads?”

“That won’t happen while the peace talks are underway.”

“And of course, our president will want to hear this news firsthand, in person.”

“Yes.”

“Very well then. We will await your arrival.”

The entire conversation had been cryptic and difficult to understand. But Truxton was convinced he understood the news that bin Rahman intended to deliver in Tehran.

Iran’s president, Nassir Ahmadian, had shockingly delivered a speech at the United Nations, during which he predicted the imminent return of the Twelfth Imam. With leaders from around the world listening in rapt attention, Ahmadian had asked God to hasten the reappearance of the Promised One—a “perfect and pure human being”—who would fill the world with justice and peace.

He’d also said he believed that his mission on earth was to pave the way for the return of the messianic Twelfth Imam, who would only come back in the midst of an apocalypse.

Ahmadian had, in fact, spent $17 million to refurbish the Jamkaran Mosque, where the Twelfth Imam was said to emerge when he returned after remaining in hiding for hundreds of years. Much like the Jewish people placed notes of prayers to God at the Western Wall on the Temple Mount, faithful Shi’a Muslims had dropped notes of prayers down the well at Jamkaran for the Twelfth Imam for years.

Ahmadian seemed to genuinely believe in the return of a hidden imam who’d gone into “occultation” in the ninth century—and would return hundreds of years later with the Jesus of the Quran. What’s more, he’d apparently convinced his Cabinet officials to sign a pledge—delivered to the well at Jamkaran—that they would work to assure the return of the Twelfth Imam. There were many prophecies that were popular to the masses. One well-known myth told of soldiers carrying black flags from the north and white flags from the south who would take control of Mecca, ushering in the era of the Twelfth Imam. Many, including Ahmadian, believed that worldwide violence and chaos were also necessary precursors to the return of the Twelfth Imam. Ahmadian had made no secret of his commitment to do everything he could to usher in the era of the Twelfth Imam.

Truxton had read much about Ahmadian. In part, he’d done so because he wanted to know what drove the man. But Truxton, a Christian in a quiet fashion, was genuinely perplexed by what appeared to be an insane doctrine that Ahmadian followed.

Right now, Truxton didn’t like what he’d heard. If his guess was right, bin Rahman had just informed Iran’s leadership that he had concrete news of the return of the Twelfth Imam, alternately referred to as the Mahdi.

That, Truxton knew, was impossible. There was simply no way a long-dead religious leader from the ninth century could suddenly spring to life. But evidently Ahmadian believed that such a thing was possible. And millions of pious believers in Iran and elsewhere—both Sunni and Shi’a—believed in the eventual appearance of a Mahdi.

Even more troubling to him than this, though, was the mere fact that al Qaeda’s operational deputy was meeting with one of Iran’s top military leaders. The Shi’a regime was fighting al Qaeda in several parts of the world. They were, in most respects, enemies.

Yemen’s embattled president, for instance, had literally hired refugee al Qaeda mercenaries to fight the Shi’a Houthi tribe elements in north Yemen, near the Saudi Arabia border. On more than one occasion, the Saudis had successfully managed to keep al Qaeda elements at the throats of armed Shi’a rebels—and Iran proxies—in several countries.

But war made for strange alliances and bedfellows. It had always been more than a little curious to Truxton, and others in the Pentagon’s leadership, that al Qaeda would have masterminded the September 11 attack against the World Trade towers in New York City in 2001. What seemed more likely was an attack inspired by Iran’s leadership— not al Qaeda.

But here was proof that at least one of al Qaeda’s leaders was perfectly comfortable reaching out to Iran’s leadership in an effort to find common ground, whether religious, economic, or military.

Truxton picked up the secure phone. He wanted to make sure there was no misunderstanding about what might be taking place in Zahedan. He asked to be connected to the Situation Room at the White House. “I need General Alton. As quickly as you can.”

Truxton knew they had no choice but to allow bin Rahman to leave, unharmed, with Bahadur. It was unfortunate. But they would do everything in their power to keep track of him.

But if bin Rahman promised news of a Twelfth Imam, then Ahmadian would listen. And there was no way to predict what Iran’s president would do next, should he choose to believe what bin Rahman had traveled down from the mountains of Pakistan to tell him.