Juggernaut

TOP SECRET SPECIAL HANDLING NO FORM

Central Intelligence Agency

Directorate of Operations, Near East Division

Doc ID: 575JD10

Page 01/1

08/25/05

MEMORANDUM TO: Project Lead, D.Ops

SUBJECT: Spektr

Colonel,

Our pilot reports successful detonation of the Sentinel device over Valley 403 at 09:57.

Joint Special Operations Command has been informed that the explosion near the Syrian border was an operational matter and no further investigation is required.

The incursion team were mercenaries. A multinational squad of second tier special forces. They were not affiliated with any of the major security contractors currently operating in this sector. They had no agency connection and were unaware of the true purpose of their mission. We do not expect their disappearance to attract undue attention.

R. Koell

Field Officer

CA Special Proj, Baghdad Station

Central Intelligence Agency

Directorate of Operations, Near East Division

FLASH CABLE — READ AND DESTROY

TO: Project Lead, D.Ops

FROM: R. Koell

08/25/05

14:46 AST

Colonel,

I have just received a bulletin from Joint Special Operations Command, Qatar. They say they have detected movement within the contamination zone. They report a locomotive heading out of the blast area along an old mine track.

JSOC have personnel in the Western Desert as part of Delta operations targeting foreign mujahedeen along the Syrian border. They have re-routed an air patrol from 160th Special Ops to intercept the locomotive.

We have made Operational Command aware of our wish to debrief the occupants of the vehicle and we are assured of their cooperation. We are currently monitoring radio traffic to determine if a member of the incursion team has survived.

IRAQ August 25th 2005

Ghost Train

The Western Desert

The Contamination Zone

The locomotive roared headlong through a rippling, caramel sandscape. A dust-streaked behemoth jetting black diesel fumes. A plough welded to the forward buffer bar scoured the dune-choked rails in a series of sand-bursts, like a speedboat smacking through chop.

The engine looked like it tore out of hell. A shattered cyclopean nose lamp. Bodywork pitted, scarred, scorched black. Maintenance panels ripped away. Cables trailed and sparked.

The windshield was smashed. The cab was empty. The throttle was jammed at full power and lashed with rope. Rev needles at max. A tool box wedged the trip-brake pedal open. Every surface dusted in sand: the console, the driver’s bar-stool seat, the plate floor.

The track ahead was blocked by a high fence half submerged in sand. Rusted chain-link propped up by metal stakes. The barrier stretched to vanishing point north and south.

Corroded stencil signs. Alternate English/Arabic. A warning to coalition troops and camel-driving Bedouin:

DANGER

TOXIC HAZARD

KEEP OUT

USE OF DEADLY FORCE AUTHORISED

IN ACCORDANCE WITH PA DIRECTIVE 84–4643

The locomotive punched through the barrier. It wrenched fence stakes from the sand. The plough blade sheering through chain-link like it was paper.

The Blackhawk flew low over dunes, chasing its shadow. It drew parallel with the locomotive.

Captain Flores held the chopper steady. She lifted her visor and surveyed the cab. Smashed windows. An empty driver’s chair. She adjusted her helmet mike.