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Rapp had to think fast. Speaking into his own headset first, he said, “Control, we may have to go with jamming. Be ready to do so on my command.” Rapp thought about how to play it. After just a second or two he brought the radio to his mouth and hoped his clipped Farsi accent would work. “Everything’s all right. It was nothing.”
There was silence for a moment, and then Aziz asked, “Who is this?”
Rapp hesitated for only a second. Into his lip mike, he said, “Control, jam everything! I repeat, everything!”
52
AZIZ LOOKED AT the door to the president’s bunker and then at the electronic device in his hand. He spoke into his radio for a third time and then held it to his ear. Nothing came back. Without having to be asked, Bengazi tried his radio. The result was the same. Aziz calmly checked the digital pager clipped to his hip and then looked at Bengazi.
“Take Ragib, check the stairwell, and try to reestablish radio contact.” Aziz then turned to Yassin, who was sticking a long spikelike object through one of the holes he had drilled. “Keep working,” he told the plump little man.
Aziz walked down the hallway, following his men, and when they reached the stairwell, he waited for them at the bottom. As Bengazi and Ragib disappeared into the stairwell, Aziz tried his radio again. It still didn’t work. Now he began to get nervous. If the radios failed, that was one thing, but if the Americans were jamming them and they covered the frequencies of his digital pagers, that would be something entirely different. The countdown would begin on the bombs, and if the Americans did not stop jamming the signal, there was nothing he could do to stop them from going off. He had only several options, and he didn’t have a lot of time to think them through.
RAPP STOOD NEXT to the main doorway of Horsepower looking down the hall, waiting for a Tango to come around the corner any second. Rielly had ventured into the room and was staring at the dead terrorist. Rapp brought his hand up and motioned for her to get behind him.
She didn’t see his gesture, and Rapp said, “Anna, get over here, and stay behind me.” Rapp looked back down the hall again and said, “Whiskey Four, where in the hell are you?”
“We’re in the tunnel. We’ll be there in a second.”
“Hurry up.”
Commander Harris, who was in the lead, passed a tired Milt Adams and sprinted up the stairs. He arrived in Horsepower with his weapon up and sweeping the room.
Rapp heard him enter and turned. “We need to take these guys out quick before they figure out what’s going on.”
“What about the bombs?” The other three black-clad SEALs entered the room.
“We pray they don’t go off while we’re shooting, and we worry about them later.”
“Slow down a minute.” General Campbell’s voice came over their radios. “We need to make sure we know what we’re doing first.”
“We’ve got one Tango upstairs watching a half a dozen hostages or more.” Rapp spoke rapidly. “We’re blind in the mess, but we know there’s at least three Tangos watching over the hostages. There’s nothing else to discuss. These guys are going to get real antsy if they don’t start hearing something on their radios. We need to move now.”
“I agree.” Harris backed up Rapp.
“What’s the Tango in the Roosevelt Room doing?” asked Rapp.
“Nothing. He’s just sitting in his chair, but Aziz and several others are on the move.”
“Where’s Delta?”
“They’re on their way in.”
Rapp looked at Harris. “The mess is down the hall, first left and then first right. Take your team and clear the room. I’ll go upstairs and take care of loner.”
“Why don’t I give you Mick?”
Rapp shook his head. “Thanks, but I don’t need him. I’ve got video on what he’s doing. You’re flying blind. You need the extra man more than I do.” Rapp started to move for the other door. He grabbed Rielly’s hand and said to Harris and the boys, “Good luck. I’ll see you in about twenty seconds.”
When Rapp reached the back steps, Milt Adams was slowly climbing the staircase from the tunnel. He looked exhausted. Turning to Rielly, Rapp said, “Wait here with Milt.” Then on the way up the stairs to the Oval Office, he remembered all of the bombs. Into his lip mike he said, “Control, you’d better start thinking of a way to get us out of here.”
BACK AT LANGLEY, Kennedy was already on the job. Things were moving along at a frantic pace. General Campbell’s Joint Special Operations Command staff was busy monitoring every aspect of the mission and telling the general only the things he needed to be most concerned about. Fortunately, everyone in the room had received enough training and, in some cases, real-life experience that they knew to keep their mouths shut unless what they had to say was imperative. During a frenetic operation like this, it was easy to swamp the lines of communications.
Kennedy tapped Campbell on the arm. “I’ll handle Iron Man. You worry about the Whiskey Team.”
Campbell nodded his consent. Colonel Gray, the commander of Delta Force, was to his right and overseeing the actions of his Alpha and Bravo Teams. The Alpha Team was on the move and about to be inserted onto the roof. The Bravo Team had left its cover under the Arlington Bridge and was on its way in. General Flood and Director Stansfield sat in the back row and watched. They were both very careful not to interrupt.
Kennedy looked at the three monitors on the big board that most concerned Rapp. “Iron Man, you are all clear. There is no movement in the hallway, and the Tango is sitting with his gun resting on his lap.” Kennedy squinted at the screen. “There’s a chance he could be sleeping.”
