The Sand Castle: A Novel

By Wayne M. Smith

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Jan 31, 2012
• ISBN: 9781469152295

Book preview

Chapter 2

The Light and the Dark

Friday, 1930 hours (local Jeddah time)

When the fumes from the methane gas ignited, just about everything within a 2.5-kilometer radius was incinerated. The force of the resulting blast smashed what was left down to a height of a half meter. Those within the radius of destruction that managed to miss the blast and flame died from lack of air. King Fahd’s palace laid in complete ruins, as well as the American Consulate, JamJoon Shopping Center, the conference palace, several major hotels, and all of the port facilities. The Saudi Naval facility looked completely destroyed; it was as if the finger of GOD had touched it. Two of the three frigate ships that were moored next to the naval facility were found turtled up with the loss of all hands. The third ship was found on top of the officer’s club crushed as if it was an empty beer can. Bodies caught in the open were incinerated on the spot. The blast and flames set off many secondary fires and explosions from the fuel bunkers that were tied up to the other ships. It also set off the munitions warehouse located on the pier. The exploding munitions on the pier took out the enlisted barracks a short distance away. Sub munitions were still cooking off, giving anyone still alive a surprising fireworks show.

The tanker explosion had suffocated nearly ten thousand men, women, and children in a two-mile radius, by sucking the oxygen out of the air. The blast had the same effects as an earthquake by collapsing buildings and breaking windows up to thirty miles away. The blast was heard and felt in Mecca. People driving down from the Taif mesa, northeast of Jeddah, saw twilight turn into day from the explosion. This caused temporary blindness, thus causing the drivers in several vehicles to plummet off the cliff road. The destructive force from the blast had thrown fish from the Jeddah harbor as far north as Medina, a two-hour drive away!

The King Khalid International Airport located in northern Jeddah is the world’s largest airport. It was in complete disarray. Aircraft were flipped and broken all over the area. The two huge terminals had all the glass blown out of them, causing thousands of injuries and hundreds of deaths. This was the height of Ramadan, and the pilgrims were arriving in droves. Since it was late in the day, most of the residents were out and parting with their families. The major damage was to the domestic terminal, which was the closest to the blast. Two Saudia airbuses, one on approach and the other on takeoff, were blown out of the sky. Their crash resulted in the total loss of life aboard both of the aircraft. The incoming airbus crashed on the runway, scattering debris and human remains across both runways, thus closing the airport. One of its massive engines raced across the runways, bounced over the tarmac, and ran into the oil tank next to the fire department. The explosion caught the fire department flat-footed, which resulted in the loss of the entire fire department with only one old Toyota pickup, with a small foam-spraying tank on the rear of it, to survive.

The Saudia Airbus 320 that carried Mohammed and his terrorist crew had the port wing ripped off and caused it to cartwheel down into the auto mechanic’s souq on the northeastern side of Jeddah. It cartwheeled down the entire length of the souq, tossing burning jet fuel, bodies, and flaming wreckage all over the oil-soaked area. The fires from the crash set the waste oil into a super fire that devoured the northeastern and central sections of Jeddah within minutes. The superheated air from the fires caused old dried wood ornaments, clothing, rugs, paper, and even rubber to spontaneously catch fire. Fire tornadoes erupted all over the souq, some hundreds of feet tall and fifty to one hundred feet wide. They traversed the entire area, creating havoc among the few survivors.

The electrical power grid for the western region was laid to waste. Lights from Tabuk to Khamis Mushayt started to wink out, causing widespread panic. The only lights, after the initial explosion in Jeddah, were the fires around the port and the very few compounds that had automatic emergency generators.

With all of the destruction in the Jeddah area, the only operational hospital was the GNP Hospital located on the north side of Jeddah. It seems that the buildings that surround the hospital protected it from any major damage. The Saudi German Hospital, only two blocks away, was toppled over onto the roadway and the Raytheon compound, spilling bodies everywhere.

Driving on Airport Road—Jeddah, KSA

Friday, 1932 hours (local Jeddah time)

Robert (Big Bob) Richardson, an ex-Air Force Special Operations specialist with Jim’s section in Jeddah, was driving on the Ring Road, heading back to the Arabian Homes compound. I really think the Saudis give their driver’s licenses out in shwama sandwiches. The son-of-a-bitch that just tried to run me off the road must have been only twelve! Then a brilliantly intense flash of light occurred as if the sun itself dropped down onto the city. BOOM! DAMN! What the HELL was that! Blinking madly, trying to regain his sight, Bob did not see the blast wave as it came crashing down the road towards him. He heard the sound of a large locomotive bearing down on him, as the blast wave came closer. BOOM! The blast wave blew his old Ford Bronco over the left side guardrail as if it was a kid’s Tonka® toy.

Lucky for Bob, the Bronco landed in a ditch filled with soft mud from the massive thunderstorms they encountered only yesterday. The impact blew out every window and collapsed the roof a few inches on one side and almost all the way down to the door handle on the other. In total darkness, hung upside down in his seatbelt, Bob fought to get his small Spyderco knife out of his front pocket. After successfully freeing the knife, he cut the seat harness away freeing him from the constraint. After what seemed like an hour of struggling to get out from under the Bronco, he noticed his sight had returned. Bob was leaning against the side of the Bronco for support, when he saw the power was out and no lights, except for the fires in the south and southeast. The fires were everywhere; they lit up the night sky. Down the road, Big Bob could see other vehicles that were caught in the blast. The car that passed him on the highway was smashed flat under a tractor–trailer that had come off the overpass and landed on top of it. Only the blinking taillights were showing. The mechanics souq was ablaze, and Bob could see fire tornadoes forming in the center of the souq. The radio blared out, bringing him out of his shock. It’s Mike! Maybe he’ll know what happened! Bob got down in the mud, on his hands and knees, to dig out the microphone and answer Mike. Never thought I’d be wallowing in mud in the damn desert! Bob started to chuckle as he slid back under the Bronco again.

Arabian Homes, Sierra Village, Jeddah, KSA

Friday, 1936 hours (local Jeddah time)

Jim Johnson’s special unit also provided security for the U.S. military and two semi-important Saudi princes living in the Arabian Homes complex located three blocks north of the Saudi German Hospital. Arabian Homes is the home of the U.S. Army’s Office of the program manager (OPM) for the Foreign Military Sales program (Western Sector) to the Saudi Arabian National Guard. It is also the home for the western sector joint services office of the United States Military Training Mission—Saudi Arabia. This unit provides assistance to the Ministry of Defense and Aviation (MoDA) for the Saudi government.

The newly reinforced security wall around the Arabian Homes complex took the brunt of the blast effects, and only the three-story buildings sustained any type of structural damage.

Mike Jackson, an ex-U.S. Ranger, was working the Security Operations Center (SOC) in the OPM mission house when the blast occurred. He had just picked himself up off the floor and was lightly bleeding from several small wounds caused by flying glass and plaster. Mike thought that he was lucky the Mylar film on the windows of the SOC held the glass mostly in one piece. It broke off the frame and blew in as one piece. The busted-up window frame just missed Mike by centimeters, but the plaster from the windowsill didn’t.

What the fuck! Mike blurted out after gaining his senses again. When Mike noticed that the power was off and only the emergency lights were illuminating the room, he stumbled out to the rear of the building where the emergency generator was located.

Mike removed the debris from the top and sides of the emergency generator. He then quickly primed the generator, checked the fuel status, and turned the key to START. Click.

Nothing! He frantically rechecked all the settings, pulled the choke out this time, and tried the key again. Still nothing! Shit, the battery’s dead! Mike grabbed the starter rope and wrapped it around the engine pulley. With one foot on the generator, he pulled the rope with all his strength. Argh, come on, you piece of shit! Start! The generator coughed once and died. He wrapped the cord around the pulley and yanked, again, as hard as he could. The generator started to cough a couple of times then finally kicked in and started to purr. ALL RIGHT, baby! After patting the generator on its frame, Mike flipped the circuit breaker on the generator and connected the emergency power line into the house socket. Tada, lights! Mike ran back inside to the house circuit breaker panel. He opened it and flipped the main switch to off position. Now he would not lose all of his juice to the rest of the compound. Mike then ran back into the Security Operations Center.

Grabbing the microphone off the Motorola VHF radio, Mike started calling the rest of unit.

All Wolf elements, All Wolf elements, this is Wolf Base. We are declaring a Tango Emergency. I say, again, we are declaring a Tango Emergency. Stand by for further instructions and muster roll call. Well, that ought to shake everyone up! A Tango Emergency is only used for an attack of some kind.

All Wolf elements, this is Wolf Base… this is a Tango emergency muster. I say, again, this is a Tango emergency muster, report in! Nothing. He tried again and again. Nothing!

Hey, the radio isn’t broadcasting! Mike thought then ran out the front door. The swinging antenna mast swinging by only its cable in front of the porch almost nailed him. Shit! Mike turned around and ran back into building to the tiny supply closet next to the downstairs toilet. He squeezed into the small area and found the tactical thirty-foot sectional whip antenna kit. Grabbing the kit, he ran back outside, missing the broken mast, and started to climb up the remaining portion of the antenna mast. About three quarters the way up the mast, Mike slipped on the bird shit that covered the middle section of the mast and fell ten feet before grabbing hold of the mast again. Cutting his hands on the rusted bird-shit-covered mast, Mike managed to get to the top of the second story of the building. He climbed over the lip on the roof. Mike dragged the antenna assemble over the lip and set it down. He got the first look at the destruction that happened. With the majority of the buildings blown down, Mike could see all the way to the port area. The port area was in flames, lights all around him were out, and the stench of the burning rubber and flesh was just getting to him. Mike quickly bent down and began to assemble the antenna. After ten long minutes, he managed to raise the new antenna. It took another five minutes to get the old cable to connect to the new antenna. Using small canvas bags that came with the kit, Mike covered his bleeding hands and climbed back down the mast.

Grabbing the first aid kit off the wall, Mike went to work, cleaning and bandaging his hands, while using his elbow to push the transmit button, trying to call all Wolf Base elements.

Colonel Ricardo was the first to respond. Wolf Base, this is Wolf 6.

Wolf 6, roger. What is your 20 and condition, over?

Wolf Base, my 20 is checkpoint 51 Alpha, and I am 1 alpha, over. Base, what is the status at your location, over?

Wolf 6, roger. Standby at that location. Six, we are barely operational, out.

Okay, the colonel is at Sheraton Resort, and he’s functional, great. Thinking as he wrote down the information on the white board next to Colonel Ricardo’s name, Master Sergeant Nick Hammer, Wolf 3, came into the SOC. What happened, Mike? Nick demanded. Don’t know yet, Mike replied. Trying to get accountability on everyone. The colonel just reported in, and he’s okay.

Wolf Base, this is 45 Bravo, over.

Roger, 45 Bravo, what is your 20 and condition, over?

Wolf Base, 45 Bravo, I’m in between checkpoints 50 and 53, also I’m 1 alpha, but my vehicle is Tango Uniform, over. Shit, Bob is exposed on Ring Road coming from the airport. Mike wrote the information next to his name.

45 Bravo, this is Wolf Base, roger. Stand by your vehicle. I will send assistance when available, out.

Wolf Base, this is Bear 6, over.

Bear 6, this is Wolf Base… what is your 20 and condition, over?

Wolf Base, Bear 6, I’m at checkpoint 51 Charlie and in 1 alpha condition, over. Okay, Major Hass is at the Anakeel Resort near Colonel Ricardo. Hey, Nick, Major Hass is close to the colonel at Anakeel.

Roger, Bear 6, stand by that location. Out.

Mike, I got hold of Major Green on the field phone. Nick was talking into an old SB-22 field phone switchboard that runs off of batteries. I’m glad this old piece of shit still works, Nick thought as he continued to use the old switchboard to contact the rest of the OPM and USMTM military staff located on Arabian Homes Compound. Nick continued to update the board with current locations and information.

Nick, when you get a chance, could you put up another FM antenna for the Harris radio? Mike yelled after him. And also, while you’re up there, could you take the IMMARSTA antenna up? By the way, use gloves. Otherwise, you will cut the shit out of your hands!

"Yeah, moffi musqalla (no problem), as soon as I get around to it."

Mike, being a smart-ass, reached into the SOC desk and pulled out a wooden disk with TU IT burnt on it. He threw it to Nick and said, Here you go, a round ‘TU It.’

Smart-ass.

By the way, Nick, where is SFC Ripple?

He went down to JamJoon Shopping Center. He wanted to get another digital camera. Just as Nick said the words, he realized that SFC Ripple might not be coming home. Next to the muster/recall chart, he circled Ripple’s name in red and put a question mark next to it with JamJoon below that.

If It Hurts, You’re Still Alive

Friday, 2210 hours (local Jeddah time)

Jim came around slowly. As he did, he noticed that five small Filipino men and one very large, six-foot, five-inch-tall Saudi were carrying him out of the building. Talal Al Jubara was leading the rescue. Boss… boss, can you hear me? Talal was yelling in Jim’s ear. Jim could hear Talal, but it was like a call on the Saudi TeleCom, filled with static and distance sounding. Talal Al Jubara was Jim’s Saudi interpreter. He was also employed by General Resources Inc. as part of the Saudization program. The problem was Talal had been a major in the Saudi Army and thought the SANG soldiers were a bunch of inbred camel jockeys not fit to guard the royal family.

As one of the Filipino men put some bandages on him, Jim answered, Yeah, yeah, I hear you. What happened, Talal? The hornet’s nest bussing in his head joined by a bunch of pile drivers banging away every second told Jim that he probably had a concussion.

Looks like something blew up in the harbor near the King Fahd’s palace, Talal said.

No shit! I need to get to a phone, Talal.

Phones are all out; boss, as well as the cell phones.

Talal, can you give me a hand to our truck?

Sure, boss, no problem. And Talal cracked a big grin. When I turned the corner with Talal still holding me up, I saw my Jimmy right where I had parked it, but it had sprouted a concrete telephone pole out of its sunroof. All of the windows were blown out, and the front seat was buried somewhere under the vehicle. The radio was destroyed as well as the front dashboard. If Talal or I had been setting in the vehicle, we would have been dead, squashed like a bunch of grapes.

Well, Talal, my friend, looks like we walk back. It’s only two and a half clicks away.

That’s easy for you to say. You don’t weigh two hundred ten kilos (462 lbs.).

Hey, Talal, think of this as your exercise program. Besides, it is only 116 degrees right now, and the sun is down. Plus, I’m hurt and will have to walk a lot slower.

Sure, you will probably have me carrying you the entire way there, Talal said, laughing. Jim and Talal cleared out the sensitive communications gear from the Jimmy and started to walk from the Durrah Dive Shop across the open lot used as the trash dump for the Sawary Mall to the Arabian Homes compound due north.

Talal was looking around at the destruction and carnage. Jim watched as he put his nose into the air and started to sniff. Hey, boss. He sniffed again. What… what is that smell? The humidity held the smoke and odors close to the ground.

Jim caught a whiff of what the odors that Talal had smelt. They were the bitter copper smell of burnt hair and the sweet fried bacon smell of burnt flesh mixed in with the salt-laden air from the Red Sea.

Trust me, Talal, you don’t want to know! You REALLY don’t want to know!

CENTCOM Headquarters, Mac Dill AFB, Florida

Friday, 1502 hours EST (3:02 p.m. Eastern Standard Time)

Senior airman Patricia Wright, Pat to her friends, was normally a very quiet person. That was partly because of her small stature; she was only four feet eleven inches and weighed only eighty-five pounds. Her natural platinum blond hair set her apart from the other girls working in the operations center. She was considered by most of the enlisted as a mousy little girl that was antisocial. It was not that she was antisocial, but that she was very professional in what she did. Just like right now, she was listening to the Harris FM radio with her headsets on in the radio communications section in the command status room, when she heard, CENTCOM, CENTCOM, this is Jeddah Base, over.

That’s odd. Jeddah isn’t supposed to conduct a radio check until tomorrow at 1900 hours, Pat thought. Pat keyed her mike. Jeddah Base, this is CENTCOM, over.

Civilians cannot use the flash indicator unless it is war!

CENTCOM, this is Jeddah Base. This is a FLASH message. Please stand by to authenticate, over.

Roger, stand by. Pat grabbed the blue phone for in-house commo and punched 101. Master Sergeant Smith, I have a problem. Jeddah is requesting to authenticate a FLASH message. Pat listened to the reply. Yes… yes. And she hung up the phone.

Pat immediately reestablished contact with Jeddah and then typed on her secured laptop, as Mike on the other end of the radio gave her the bad news, as he knew it. After typing two pages of message traffic, Pat told Mike to stand by and declared minimize on her radio. When Pat declared minimize on the system, all other radio stations on her net were to stand down and listen only. Only if an emergency was declared could a station broadcast such message.

By the time she had finished the received message, printed, time-stamped, logged, and initialed it, Master Sergeant Smith was standing by her. Finished, she said as she passed the two sheets to him. Master Sergeant Smith quickly read through it then ran it to the lower level where he gave it to the senior duty officer for the Middle East. By the end of the day, Pat became a very popular girl with all of the general officer staff. Normally, Pat would not have minded the attention, but not in this case. She had a dear friend over there, and she is betting that he is right in the middle of the mess.

The twenty-five by twenty-foot status room shrank in size as the normal fourteen personnel grew to a whopping one hundred and fifty-two personnel. The whole Crisis Action Team had arrived and was waiting for the General Irons to show.

At the Pentagon Emergency Operations Center, they were waiting for the chairman of the Joint Chiefs to arrive. It seemed like every one enlisted to work the consoles had some officer looking over their shoulder. The Pentagon had been notified that something was happening in Saudi Arabia and requested National Security Agency (NSA) to redirect some of their birds to get a visual on the happenings.

In other parts of the room, airmen, sailors, marines, and soldiers were attempting to contact other down range command sections in Saudi Arabia. No response from Riyadh, Dhahran, Hofuf, Jubail, Tabuk, Khamis, and Prince Sultan Air Base. Although King Khalid Military City responded, there was only one major assigned there, and he did not know what was going on.

The JCS issued a THREATCON DELTA for the Middle Eastern region and the Mediterranean area of operation. THREATCON DELTA is only issued when a threat is immediate or happening. CENTCOM also sent a WARNING order to three SEAL detachments in the Djibouti area of operations (AO), as well as their counterparts in the Special Operations Wing, Twentieth Special Forces Group and the Second Rangers Battalion. CENTCOM put in a request to the Joint Chiefs for a naval battle group to be put on standby in case everything went south on them. Assets from the Indian Ocean AO were redirected to support CENTCOM as needed.

Displayed on the large plasma screens that hung in the main situation room, the real-time video and pictures from two of the three KH-11 birds that were redirected started coming in to focus. The effects that the images on the screens had on the hardened military crowd were overwhelming. Some of the staff started to cry. Others got sick and had to leave the room. The images were rotating from one screen to another. They showed the destruction and fires from the cities of Jeddah, Riyadh, Dhahran, Hofuf, and Prince Sultan Air Base. The terrorists had coordinated the attacks very well this time. The destruction would equal that of the bombing in World War II that leveled cities. The main United States military complex in Saudi Arabia located at Eskan Village on the southern out skirts of Riyadh was hit with several coordinated