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The 160th SOAR, based out of Fort Campbell, Kentucky, is widely regarded as home to the best helicopter pilots in the world. The only other aviators who can give them a run for their money are the men from the Air Force's 1st Special Operations Wing, and they too would be involved in tonight's operation. Both units owed their current peak performance to a tragedy that had occurred more than twenty years earlier. On April 24, 1980, the United States Special Forces community suffered their greatest defeat in an operation code-named Eagle Claw.
Eagle Claw would painfully reveal the inadequacies and shortcomings created by decades of inter-service rivalries and a general reluctance on the part of military leaders to properly fund the Special Forces. The mission on that fateful night was to rescue the fifty-three hostages held at the American embassy in Teheran. The Ayatollah Khomeini and his Revolutionary Guard had seized the embassy and its personnel some six months earlier. Time had run out on President Carter, and if he wanted to spend four more years at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, the hostages had to be brought home.
The operation would be the first time the army's super secret Delta counterterrorism force would see action. On that cold April evening, five C-130 transport and refueling planes were to rendezvous with eight RH-53D Sea Stallion helicopters at a sight known as Desert I. The Sea Stallions were then to refuel and take on the Delta operators for the trip to a site in the mountains outside Teheran. Unfortunately, the mission was scrubbed after two of the eight Sea Stallions got lost enroute to Desert I, and a third suffered mechanical difficulties. There were not enough helicopters left to get the job done, so the plug was pulled. That was when a bad situation got worse, drastically worse.
As one of the Sea Stallions maneuvered into position for refueling, its main rotor hit an EC-130E, and both the helicopter and plane burst into flames. With fire shooting into the night sky, the team had to make an emergency departure leaving behind all the helicopters and the burning plane.
In the wake of the disaster the military formed a review group that was aimed at pacifying critics in the media and on the Hill. Admiral James Holloway chaired the group, and fortunately for the Special Forces, the admiral didn't pull any punches. The group produced a document that eventually became known as the Holloway Report. It laid bare the inadequacies of operation Eagle Claw. At the top of the list was the subject of helicopters. The report stated that if future covert missions were to stand a chance, the military had to greatly improve its helicopter operations.
The result was the formation of a covert aviation unit named Task Force 160. Forty highly qualified candidates were selected to make up the task force. Of those original forty pilots more than half a dozen perished in training accidents as they pushed their flying machines to the limit in the worst of weather conditions. It was during this time that they became known as the "Night Stalkers." By the early nineties the force had grown to approximately 400 aviators. This was also when they took on their official name, the 160th Special Operations Aviation Regiment, or SOAR. The aviators and airmen of SOAR train constantly, in the worst of conditions, and do so while hugging the earth at speeds of over 120 mph. This is why they are the best helicopter pilots in the world.
Rapp had put his life in their hands on many occasions, and although they'd brought him to the brink of vomiting on at least three occasions, there was no other group of aviators he trusted more. He watched the flight crews work on their helicopters under red filter lights. The scene before him looked like something out of a futuristic sci-fi movie. He could see the pilots sitting in the cockpits of the big MH-47E Chinooks. They too were working under the faint glow of red filter lights. Because they would be flying with night vision they could not expose their expert eyes to bright light for at least an hour prior to takeoff. There would be no Desert I disasters with these guys.
Rapp knew they were going through their extensive preflight checklist. The advanced Chinooks came at a price tag of $35 million apiece. Each bird was capable of carrying thirty troops or a variety of other payloads. They were equipped with the Enhanced Navigation Systems, or ENS. Using twenty separate systems such as Doppler navigation, automatic direction fi
nders, attitude director indicators, GPS, and a bevy of compasses and gyroscopes, the ENS tells the pilots exactly where they are at all times. They were also equipped with highly advanced terrain-following/terrain-avoidance radar and forward-looking infrared imagers or FLIR. This integrated system allowed the aviators to fly deep penetration missions while skimming the surface, in the worst of weather conditions, and land exactly on a target within seconds of their stated extraction or infiltration time.
Three of the four Chinooks were loaded with the white Mercedes sedans. The team would split up and ride with their vehicles-four Delta operators in each chopper plus Rapp in the middle helicopter. The fourth Chinook was there as a backup in case something went wrong with any of the others.
His detached solitude was broken by the door to the command trailer opening and Colonel Gray's gruff voice loudly barking out orders. A second later Major Berg, the commander of the assault team, appeared at Rapp's side.
In Arabic the major asked, "Are you ready, Uday Hussein?"
Rapp grinned. Looking at the choppers he replied in Arabic, "Yep. Let's go win one for the Gipper, rah rah, sisboomba." Major Berg smiled, showing a bright set of white teeth accented by a thick black mustache. "The advance team is halfway there. No problems so far."
"I suppose it's time to saddle up?"
"Yep. Dust off in five minutes." Berg stood silent for a moment and then added, "Last chance to back out."
"You couldn't pay me enough to miss this one."
The door to the command trailer flew open and Colonel Gray appeared in the doorway. "Major Berg, get your men and load 'em up!" The colonel approached Rapp and stuck out his hand. "Good luck, Mitch. I wish I was going with you."
Rapp knew he meant it. He took Gray's hand, and over the roar of the big Chinooks engines coming to life, he thought about giving the colonel a message for Anna in case something went wrong. After a moment of hesitation he decided against it. He thanked the colonel and then headed off to grab the rest of his equipment.
Situation Room, Monday afternoon
Kennedy went straight from Capitol Hill to the White House. Her testimony had ended so abruptly that it had caught the media off guard. They'd settled in for the afternoon expecting hours of cantankerous questions and evasive testimony. When she'd left the Hart Senate Office Building just thirty minutes after she'd arrived, the majority of the cameras out in front of the building were unmanned. There were still a number of photographers who tried to hold her up as she left the building, jumping in front of her bodyguards as they escorted her to the director's limousine. The beefy security detail pushed the photographers aside like blockers on a kick return. Kennedy was safely tucked away in her limo twenty seconds after walking out on the committee.
When she arrived at the White House her blockers stayed outside with the vehicles, which was unfortunate because, between the entrance on West Executive Avenue and the Situation Room, she was practically tackled by Michelle Bernard, the President's press secretary.
"Irene, would you mind telling me what in the hell that was all about?" Bernard had one of the most stressful jobs in Washington.
Kennedy sidestepped her and motioned for Bernard to follow. Kennedy liked her, and didn't envy the position she was in. "What has the President told you?"
"Nothing," she half snapped. "That's the problem." Bernard looked over both shoulders to make sure no one from the press was within earshot. "The jackals are all over me, and I look like an idiot. I can't confirm or deny a thing. I look like I'm completely out of the loop."
"That's not such a bad spot to be in, Michelle."
Bernard ignored the advice and asked, "How bad is it?"
As they rounded the corner, Kennedy waited for two White House staffers to pass and then said, "Get ready for a long night."
"It's that bad?"
"I didn't say that, I just said it's going to be a long night."
Bernard gave her a wary glance, and then asked, "How the hell can you be so calm? I mean for Christ's sake, Irene, they're getting ready to burn you at the stake."
