Tehran Grocery Store: My Intelligence is Priced Clearly

The duty officer stepped aside and dialed Reza's contact information.

"Hello, the number you dialed is currently switched off."

A cold, automated Persian voice message sounded, and the duty officer's expression changed drastically.

I quickly dialed again.

However, the feedback over the phone showed no change.

Every time, the same sentence came through the receiver.

The duty officer put down the phone, already cursing Reza to the core in his mind.

"What's wrong?"

Jawad turned around and asked.

"General, Reza's phone is off."

Mosen gave a cold laugh.

"A major from the intelligence department, throwing this kind of thing up here and then turning off his phone? He didn't even explain the source of the intelligence."

"Jawad, when did our intelligence agencies become so incompetent and lazy?!"

Fahri did not participate in the argument.

He sat at the end of the long table, his glasses back on his nose, holding the copy of the intelligence report in his hand, turning it over and over again.

"Jawad".

Fahri looked up.

"Could you elaborate on the multi-axis strike tactics you just mentioned?"

Jawad paused for a moment.

Which part?

"After the simultaneous attacks on Bandar Abbas and Isfahan, the second wave will target the military runway at Tehran Airport."

"You said the time interval is six minutes and forty-two seconds, which is just enough for the electronic warfare suppression effect to cover."

Fahri pushed the paper over and pointed to the numbers on it.

"What I want to ask is..."

"Is it possible that this 6 minutes and 42 seconds is made up?"

Jawad was silent for a few seconds, then shook his head.

"Unlikely."

Why?

"This number is too precise; it's so precise it doesn't seem like a guess."

Jawad stood up and walked to the map on the wall.

"The F-35A entered from the Persian Gulf direction. Based on a cruising altitude of 8,000 meters and a penetration speed of Mach 0.9."

"The propagation attenuation time from the airspace over Bandar Abbas to the electronic warfare coverage boundary of Isfahan is approximately six to seven minutes."

"At six minutes and forty-two seconds, it was right at the end of the effective suppression window of the EA-18G's ALQ-99 electronic jamming pod."

He turned around.

"If this number is fabricated, the person who fabricated this intelligence must be proficient in the parameters of US military electronic warfare equipment, the flight envelope of the F-35, and the time synchronization algorithm for multi-axis coordinated strikes."

"And these data are precisely the focus of this crackdown."

"In other words, even if it's fake, it's just that he analyzed it based on the existing intelligence."

The meeting room fell silent again.

As one of the commanders of the air force.

Mosen understood perfectly what Jawad meant.

His expression changed slightly.

"You mean, faith?"

No one answered.

Fahri took off his glasses and placed them on the table.

"Mosen, I have a question for you."

"you say."

"If this intelligence is true, what will happen tomorrow if we do nothing tonight?"

Mosen didn't say anything.

Fahri continued.

"Twelve targets were bombed at the same time, the air defense network was torn apart, the runway of Tehran International Airport was paralyzed, and fighter jets could not take off."

"By then, what ability will we have to retaliate?"

"But what if this information is fake..."

Mosen's tone was harsh.

"If we deploy our troops according to this plan, the areas we should be fighting in will be empty, and our losses will be even greater!"

Jawad stepped in.

"So, I have a compromise solution here."

Both of them looked at him at the same time.

"We will not make comprehensive adjustments, but only take localized preventative measures."

Jawad walked back to the table, picked up a pen, and drew several circles on the map.

"Of the twelve targets, three are core nodes of our existing air defense system."

"Bandar Abbas radar station, Isfahan air defense positions, Tehran airport."

"These three locations, regardless of whether the intelligence is true or false, are the most likely targets for the US military to attack."

"We withdrew the personnel from these three points to backup positions, activated the camouflage, and set up decoy targets."

"The remaining nine positions will remain unchanged in their current deployment, but all positions will be notified to enter Level 1 combat readiness."

"At the same time, the timeline for the crackdown will be issued."

"Don't directly inform them that it's a US bombing raid; just say it's a training exercise."

"All personnel are required to take shelter in air-raid shelters within the specified time."

"Missile vehicles and other mobile equipment must be properly camouflaged."

"If the intelligence is true, we have at least preserved the core nodes."

"If it were fake, we wouldn't have made a large-scale mobilization, and we wouldn't have exposed the depth of our air defense system."

Mosen's lips moved, but he did not refute.

Fahri slammed his hand on the table.

"Let's do it this way."

He glanced at the clock on the wall.

4:17 a.m.

There are less than three hours left before the first wave of attacks is scheduled according to the intelligence.

"Notify all relevant units to implement this immediately."

4:40 a.m.

After the command was issued, the three core nodes began to take action.

The operators at the Bandar Abbas radar station evacuated the main position and moved to a backup bunker three kilometers away.

Inflatable radar decoys and corner reflectors were left at the original site.

The S-300 missile launchers at the Isfahan air defense positions were withdrawn to a reserve position in the valley, and wig launchers and heat source simulators were put into use at the original positions.

On the military runway of Tehran International Airport, two F-14 fighter jets were towed into hardened aircraft shelters, while three inflatable dummy aircraft were placed on the runway.

For the remaining nine targets, the commanders of each position received a Level 1 combat readiness notice.

The only sentence was: "Perform the drill and relocation according to the designated time."

Five o'clock in the morning.

Jawad sat at his combat station in the command center, staring at the situation screen in front of him.

The radar network shows everything is normal, and there are no unusual air situations in the Persian Gulf direction.

He took a sip of strong tea, and frowned slightly at the bitterness.

5:30 a.m.

There's still nothing there.

Mosen walked over, rubbing his temples with both hands.

I hadn't slept all night and felt extremely tired.

"Still no movement? I guess we've been working for nothing."

Jawad didn't respond.

Six o'clock in the morning.

In the Persian Gulf, the US Navy's USS Abraham Lincoln carrier strike group launched its E-2D early warning aircraft.

A bright spot suddenly appeared on the radar screen.

The officer on duty quickly came over to report.

"General, the radar has detected the E-2D's signal."

Jawad put down his teacup.

Mosen also stopped walking.

The takeoff of an E-2D early warning aircraft usually indicates that a follow-up attack wave is imminent.

6:15.

The second E-2D took off.

6:22.

EA-18G "Growler" electronic warfare aircraft takes off.

Interference stripes began to appear on the radar screen.

6:31.

In the Persian Gulf direction, radar detected multiple waves of high-speed targets.

"Report! Multiple aerial targets detected in the Persian Gulf direction, azimuth 215 to 220 degrees, altitude 8,000 to 9,000 meters, speed exceeding Mach 0.85!"

"quantity!"

"The first batch consisted of four, followed by a second batch of four at intervals—and the number is still increasing!"

Jawad suddenly stood up.

Azimuth 217 degrees.

The intelligence report stated 217 degrees Celsius.

He strode to the situation screen.

"Target course?"

"Heading straight towards Bandar Abbas!"

Jawad turned to look at Mosen.

Mosen's face had turned pale.

"Notify all positions!"

Jawad's voice echoed throughout the command hall.

"Turn off radar signal and communication methods!"

"At all twelve points, from the moment this notification is issued, complete network silence!"

"quick!"

7:12.

There are three minutes left before the first wave of attacks, as indicated by the intelligence.

Everyone in the command center was staring at the screen.

The radar interference became increasingly severe, and the image began to flicker and tear.

"Signal lost in the direction of Bandar Abbas!"

"Electronic suppression in the Isfahan direction intensifies; radar downgraded for operation!"

7:15:10.

"Report! The Bandar Abbas radar station has been attacked!"

Jawad glanced at the time.

The intelligence report stated 7:15:33.

It was 23 seconds off.

"Wait a moment."

He himself couldn't explain why he had to wait.

7:15:33.

"Report! Isfahan air defense positions have been precisely targeted! At the same time!"

Someone in the command center gasped.

Two directions, same second.

The time was exactly the same as the time indicated on the intelligence report, down to the second.

Mosen stood there, stunned.

Fahri gripped the armrests of the chair tightly.

7:22:15.

"Tehran International Airport's military runway area has been hit! The impact point coincides with the predicted location!"

The interval is six minutes and forty-two seconds.

Accurate to the second.

Jawad's back was soaked with sweat.

Then came the fourth, fifth, sixth...

The time it took for each target to be hit perfectly matched the numbers on those A4 sheets of paper.

The attack lasted forty-seven minutes.

Twelve targets, twelve rounds of strikes.

Direction of attack, aircraft type, ammunition type...

All correct.

Not a single word is different.

8:02.

When news arrived that the last target had been hit, the command center was filled with the sounds of communications.

Each position began reporting its losses.

"Bandar Abbas radar station: decoy destroyed, zero personnel casualties, all equipment intact except for fixed equipment that was destroyed and unable to operate!"

"At the Isfahan air defense position, the wig launcher was hit, the S-300 launcher is intact, and all personnel are safe!"

"At Tehran airport, dummy aircraft were destroyed, four hangars were destroyed, and the F-14s, which had been moved in advance, suffered no damage!"

……

Reports kept pouring in.

Twelve goals.

Zero casualties.

Equipment losses: Apart from the destruction of the radar station's fixed equipment and some buildings, only a few inflatable models and corner reflectors were lost.

No one spoke in the command center.

Everyone stared at the twelve target markers that had turned gray on the situation screen, all thinking the same question.

Where did this intelligence come from?

Fahri slumped in his chair and let out a long sigh.

Mosen stood there, his lips moved a few times, but he didn't utter a single word.

Jawad picked up the phone and personally dialed Reza's contact information.

This time, it worked.

"Major Reza."

"General Jawad."

Reza's voice came through the receiver.

"What the hell was the meaning of turning off your phone last night?"

Mosen rushed over and yelled into the microphone.

There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.

"General Morsen, my signal is not very good, I didn't hear what you said."

Mo Sen almost smashed the phone.

Jawad pulled the microphone back from Mosen and held it to his own ear.

"Major Reza, please come to the air defense headquarters."

"There are some issues that I need you to explain."

"Yes, now, immediately, right away!"

Mo Sen leaned over and shouted into the microphone.

"Yes."

At the hospital.

Zhang Jian did not wait for Reza.

He was watching a live news broadcast on his phone.

U.S. Central Command press conference.

The speaker stood behind the podium, with a huge American flag behind him.

"In this operation, the U.S. military carried out precision strikes on a total of twelve military targets in and around Tehran, all of which hit their targets, achieving a 100% mission success rate."

"Tehran has lost its effective air superiority capability. Its air defense system has been devastated, and its retaliatory capability has been completely dismantled."

"This operation is the most successful precision strike operation by the U.S. military in recent years, and it has significant strategic implications for resolving the Iranian issue."

"We urge Iran to accept reality and surrender unconditionally as soon as possible."

"Otherwise, the U.S. military will not hesitate to launch the next attack."

Below the stage, reporters raised their hands in a dense forest.

The flashes never stopped.

CNN, BBC, Al Jazeera—all the cameras were pointed at the podium.

Satellite photos show that buildings at twelve target locations were completely destroyed.

Judging from the images, it is indeed a ruin.

The US military's assessment report even stated four words.

"The results were unprecedented."

The satellite images on the screen are switched.

One after another.

Destroyed buildings, burning debris, and bomb craters.

It does look very intimidating.

After reading it, Zhang Jian turned off his phone.

Leaning against the hospital bed, he pursed his lips slightly.

Karimi peeked over from the side.

"What's wrong?"

"See for yourself."

Zhang Jian handed over the phone.

Karimi took it, glanced at it, and his face turned from pale to ashen.

"Those bastards!"

Zhang Jian remained silent.

The strike was complete, and the intelligence he provided was accurate.

Whether the military actually adopted it or not is not his concern.

I'm thinking about it.

Outside the ward, hurried footsteps approached from afar.

The door was pushed open.

Farhad rushed in.

"Mr. Zhang."

"Someone from the General Staff wants to see you!"