By Scott Perdue
11 September 2001
New York, USA
“United Two Five Two, turn right heading 310, proceed direct Lanna when able and then own nav. Contact New York center 122.375.”
“Right heading 310, to Lanna, then own nav. Center on 122.375, Good day. United 252.” Mike Eldridge, First Officer of the United Airlines Boeing 767, replied as he dialed the new heading into the flight mode panel.
“Good morning New York Center, United 252 with you climbing to FL 280, direct Lanna.”
“Roger, United Two Five Two, New York Center. Climb and maintain FL 350.” Eldridge set 350 in the altitude display of the Flight Mode panel and repeated, “350” to Captain Gary Eller.
“350.” Captain Eller repeated as he pointed at the altitude display with his finger, and then punched the AP1 button to turn on the autopilot. He said “Autopilot’s on.” Glancing at Eldridge he asked conversationally, “What do you think about the bid lines for this month? They’re looking kinda shy on hours.”
“Yeah, they are. I’ve been looking through open time and there isn’t enough there to fill up the month. It’s rough, I don’t know what I’m going to do, but that don’t stop any of the bills.” Eldridge smiled in reply.
“I know, I know, the lines are getting a little thin these days.” Eller commented and looked out the windshield for traffic. Climbing out of the New York area it was very busy with other flights all over the sky. After a moment, he heard a coded knock on the door. Looking at Eldridge again a smile lit up his face, “There’s the knock. Our number one must have breakfast; she’s a little early today. I’ll buzz her in.”
Capt Eller reached back with his right hand to the rear of the center pedestal and pressed the door release button. The door violently flew open and slammed against the wall behind his head. Surprised, Eller looked over his shoulder to see what the commotion was. He saw three swarthy men rush through the door. Before he could shout or say a word, the first one threw his left arm around the Captain’s neck and violently pulled his head back. With a grim, determined look on his face, he produced a razor knife in his right hand and slashed it across the Captain’s throat. The next two men through the door attacked the First Officer, one behind the other, trying to cut him as well. Mike Eldridge responded, instinctually grabbing his approach plate book; he swung it up between himself and the onrushing attackers. With his other hand, he reached for the autopilot disconnect button and thumbed it off. The autopilot disconnected and the airplane began to enter a gentle right turn with the nose dropping.
Unattended, the plane began to descend and accelerate. Eldridge, fighting for his life, continued to fend off the two men. Bleeding profusely from several cuts on his arms, Eldridge managed a hard, savage punch to the head of the one closest to him. Driven by fury he cocked his arm and hit him again. The attacker fell unconscious and the man behind him pushed him on top of Eldridge, pinning him underneath the unconscious man. The third intruder reached around the unconscious attacker, punching Eldridge repeatedly in the head. With his body and his arms pinned, Eldridge could do nothing to fight him off.
In the sudden chaos that had enveloped the cockpit, a fourth man appeared in the doorway. Shouting in Arabic to the man holding Eller’s limp body he said, “Ahmed, release the Captain and remove him from the seat. Do it quickly.”
Ahmed reached around the Captain, feeling for the seatbelt buckle, finding it slippery in blood he twisted it and released the seat belt. Wiping the blood soaking his hands on the Captains sleeve, bright red contrasting with the white of the shirt, Ahmed then put both arms under Eller and pulled him slowly out of his seat.
“Put him in the galley and help Mahmoud dispose of the First Officer. Quickly, the plane is going out of control!” The newcomer directed. He was Mohammed El Baridi, an Egyptian, and the leader of the hi-jackers. After Ahmed removed the Captain from the cockpit, El Baridi reached around the seat, pulled the track lock, slid the seat aft and to the left and then moved around it to sit down in the seat.
As El Baridi sat down, Eldridge managed to throw his attacker off him and pushed the man towards the Egyptian. Eldridge grabbed at the throttles, clicked off the Auto throttles, and pushed them forward to the stops. Standing, he lunged toward El Baridi and threw a roundhouse punch as hard as he could. Connecting to the side of his face, he knocked him sideways into the left window, temporarily stunning him. Eldridge prepared to throw another punch; he did not see Ahmed sprang back through the door with a knife in his hand. Ahmed held his left arm up to deflect any blows, reaching Eldridge he shoved the knife under his left arm and in between his ribs as hard as he could. Eldridge grunted and collapsed across the center pedestal, his eyes open and staring blankly.
El Baridi shook his head groggily. The big airliner had begun to roll into a steeper bank, accelerating over 100 knots during the scuffle, the wind rushed by the windshield at over 400 knots. He grabbed the controls and abruptly rolled the airplane out of the bank. Beads of perspiration were breaking out on his forehead as he fought to control the airplane. Grasping the throttles he pulled them to idle and shouted angrily at the man, Eldridge had knocked to the floor: “Mahmoud quit lying there. Get rid of him and get the GPS setup. Now!”
Mahmoud and Ahmed pulled Eldridge off the center pedestal and dragged him out of the cockpit into the galley. Leaving a trail of blood smeared across the floor, they dumped him unceremoniously on the galley floor. On his way back through the cockpit door Ahmed reached down and picked up a backpack from the galley. He closed the door firmly behind him. Inside he sat down on the jump seat behind the center pedestal and opened the backpack. He pulled a small handheld GPS unit out, connected a remote antenna, and stuck it to the window next to the Captain’s seat. He turned it on and set it on the pedestal behind the throttles. Looking at El Baridi, he said solemnly, “The GPS is on, it must awake.”
El Baridi nodded gruffly, “Turn off the ATC transponder and when the GPS comes alive, dial in our point. Hurry, there is little time.”
Mahmoud climbed into the First Officer’s seat and settled in.
Leaving the throttles near idle El Baridi turned on a northerly heading and continued the descent. Baridi looked at Mahmoud, “We must fly below 3000 feet to avoid radar. We will turn back when the GPS says it is time.”
“I think we should turn back now. It is Allah’s will we should be first.” Mahmoud replied loudly.
El Baridi shot him a dirty look, with a furtive glance at the third hi-jacker sitting on the jump seat, he looked back out the front, “Ahmed, take Abu and go back into the cabin and see how the others are doing. Make sure and control the passengers, keep them in their seats. I will call if there are any changes.”
“Yes, I will. When will you call and make our demands? I want to hear them tremble!” Ahmed said excitedly.
“Go now! I will call you when I need you. Close the door.” El Baridi exploded.
As Ahmed and the other hijacker closed the cockpit door behind them, El Baridi barked at Mahmoud “Keep you mouth shut, you know they do not know what we are about to do!”
“I will be careful. But we should turn back soon, we do not want to be late!” Mahmoud replied.
In the Galley Ahmed began searching the cabinets. The first two cabinets held soda and ice, finding one with food he took out several trays. Tearing the foil covering off the trays, he began eating the food.
Abu stood nervously in the hallway. “Ahmed, what did Mahmoud say? What did he mean by being first?”
Leveling the plane about 3000’ above the ground El Baridi glanced at the GPS time-to-waypoint window. “It will be time soon to turn. Where are we?” El Baridi asked.
“The GPS does not say. I think that big valley in front of us is the Hudson River. We must be north of New York City.” Mahmoud said. “Keep on this heading of around 230 degrees and keep the city on the left.”
“I will do that. Look out for other airplanes; watch for others that might try to intercept us. I do not think the Americans will be able to send the military so quickly; but we must be prepared.” El Baridi said.
The big Boeing airliner skirted Newburgh, New York and flew between the ridgelines running in a southwesterly direction on the west side of the Hudson River, generally towards Philadelphia. This September Tuesday was spectacular, a turquoise blue clear day all over the east coast and the visibility was better than 10 miles.
Somewhere west of Somerville, New Jersey, El Baridi glanced at the GPS on the glare shield, rolling the aircraft into a 15 degree bank left he said, “It is time we must turn back.”
As he rolled out on the bearing to the target he asked, “Mahmoud, what time does
the GPS give us now?”
Mahmoud, could not believe his eyes, the handheld GPS device had been showing them right on time, but after they had completed their turn, it suddenly showed them getting there late. With fear in his eyes, he looked at El Baridi, “Mohammed, I do not know what happened, but the time is now 15 minutes late.”
“You are a fool or cannot read! How can that be? We were on time when we turned around!” El Baridi screamed. Angry, he did not look at his fellow hi-jacker; he pushed the throttles to the stop and leaned forward to squint out of the windscreen.
In a few minutes he saw the Lower New York Bay and knew he was off course, he turned the big aircraft 15 degrees to the left.
Mahmoud, trying to be helpful, said, “There is Sandy Hook on the right. There is the Verrazano Narrows Bridge. You are on course. Soon we will see the Trade Center.”
As the huge 767 airliner flew over Staten Island, El Baridi descended to less than 1,000 feet above the ground. He knew he could find the towers; it was easy to see their general location because of the smoke from the first aircraft that had struck 15 minutes ago. The smoke obscured the south tower a little bit, but he was not worried, they had discussed this part of the plan a thousand times. He descended closer to the ground, going as fast as the airliner would go. All he had to do was look for the capitalist symbol at Liberty Island, his next navigation point, he would use it to turn and line up with the south tower. Suddenly, he was surprised to see three or four tall cranes jutting into the sky 200 to 300 feet in the air in Bayonne, New Jersey. As quickly, as he could he turned sharply to the left of the Marine Terminal. Flying over Ellis Island at 500 knots he turned sharply to the right and flew towards the World Trade Center Towers, the cranes had put him slightly off course, but he knew he could find the towers easily.
Seeing Battery Park slide by on his right Mahmoud said excitedly, “Mohammed, you are going very fast. You must line up on the South Tower. Remember how long it takes to turn this aircraft.”
“Do not bother me, I am flying the aircraft. I know what I am doing. We are pointed at the corner, but I want to hit the face that is on the south side. We will make it.” El Baridi replied.
“You must turn, you are going so fast you will miss it. You must turn now!” Mahmoud shouted. “You must turn!”
The 390,000lb jetliner was moving over nine miles a minute skimming the rooftops over southern Manhattan and its flight path was going to overshoot the tower. “I have the airplane in bank, but it is not turning! Help me!” shouted El Baridi.
Passing over Rector Street, Mahmoud reached down, grasped the First Officers control yoke, and began pulling back towards his lap. At the last minute, the aircraft finally began turning and seconds later struck the south tower of the World Trade Center at 9:03 am.
6 October 2001
White House Situation Room, Washington DC- 26 days later
At the morning meeting of the war cabinet, twenty-six days after the terrorist attack on the World Trade Center, the President grimly welcomed everyone to the meeting of his Security Council. After a few words, he nodded at the Director of Central Intelligence. The DCI cleared his throat and stood up, looking briefly around the room he turned back to the President and began speaking, “Mr. President, As you know we have had a Special Activities Team on the ground for 10 days preparing the way for our guys to put boots on the ground in Northern Afghanistan.
“Three days ago Uzbekistan granted basing rights, which means we can start to match up Army SOF units with my teams on the ground. The first SOF A Team met with my guys on the ground yesterday and will begin working with the Northern Alliance in a matter of days. They are currently working their way to the front lines in country in the northern pocket. A second team already linked with Special Forces will enter from Uzbekistan and join the Northern Alliance south of Mazar-e Sharif in less than a week. The Northern Alliance factions are prepared for them.
“Per your orders I instructed the SA Team yesterday to work with their Northern Alliance tribal contacts to stand down military operations and hold in place. I have taken the liberty and instructed them to concentrate on sabotage operations against Al-Qaeda and Taliban installations. I expect things to ramp up as we, and the Army, can get more folks on the ground. According to plan, after we have started the bombing campaign we will release the Alliance troops to go after the Taliban.”
The DCI looked towards the Secretary of Defense, nodded, and abruptly sat down.
“Sir,” the Secretary of Defense, staying seated began, “We have Combat Search and Rescue assets located in Pakistan, ready to pick up any downed airman in the southern part of Afghanistan today. We expect to have a CSAR network up and running for the north in a few days to a week’s time. They will be operating primarily out of Tashkent with a Forward Operating Location in Dushanbe and near the border.
“I expect that the initial target set that we nominated for our strikes will be exhausted very quickly. Even if we have to hit the same target more than once we will probably be out of clear targets within two days, five at the most, of the start of the bombing campaign.”
The SecDef, to this point had held his hands folded calmly on the table in front of him, opened his hands wide in an expansive gesture, “If I may say so, Sir. I don’t think that our initial target set will have a large impact on the Taliban. Their center-of-gravity is not their infrastructure, more than anything else; it is their people, their fighters, and their heavy weapons. It is a fact that we will achieve air superiority very quickly, but beyond that we need to define the next step of the war.”
“Yes, I agree.” the DCI interrupted. “I think we need to make the Taliban cease to exist as a military force. It is my view that the Taliban and Al-Qaeda are inextricably linked; you can’t have one without the other.”
The President interjected flatly; “We will give them a chance to do the right thing. If we go to war, we do not do so against the Muslims or the Afghani people. If the Taliban will not turnover Usama Bin Laden and his underlings, the Taliban itself will be targeted. There is time yet to determine the next step in the war.”
The President did not usually interrupt a speaker before he was finished, after a short silence, the DCI continued, “From a strategic point of view we need the Northern Alliance factions to close the gap at Salang Pass in Baghlan Province, and trap the Taliban in the North. It is imperative we do this before winter sets in. I’ve gotten reports that lead me to believe that the Taliban is likely to fold very quickly if we can bring sufficient assets to bear. There are a lot of factions involved here and we feel that money can induce a lot of Taliban supporters to switch sides without fighting.”
The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, silently observing the exchange, interrupted emphatically, slapping the table with an open palm, “To do that Mr. President we need to rely heavily on SOF and CIA teams on the ground to direct our air assets directly on Taliban and Al-Qaeda forces the north. The Tribals haven’t been able to win an open battle with the Taliban in quite sometime and no matter how much money we spread around we still need to show results; on the ground. Results the Tribals will see. I agree that closing the Pass is a good strategic goal, but it is probably not sufficient to motivate them.”
Everyone at the table grew silent, some turned slightly towards the Chairman, surprised by his outburst. Everyone eyed him expectantly, the room utterly silent.
Holding their attention, the Chairman went on, “Our allies, of the moment, are interested in two things, money and prestige. The CIA has the money and since our military has a good reputation, we have an initial advantage. But this will not last long. We need to show results, and quickly.
“It is my opinion that the SOF/CIA teams need to do more than coordinate with the Northern Alliance. They also need to focus on frontline Taliban. We need to use the teams to nominate and validate targets for our tactical air assets. It will be a very dynamic situation on the front and this is the only manner to degrade the effectiveness of the Taliban. There is no one else that can reliably direct bombs on those targets, targets that will do the most good for those on the ground. By doing that we will embolden our allies and drive a wedge of fear between the Taliban and their supporters.
“If the immediate objective of this war is to destroy Al-Qaeda and the Taliban, then we must have our guys on the ground direct the fight. The teams on the ground are very vulnerable and that by having them participate in the action we put them at risk. On the other hand if we do not integrate their participation, we stand to lose our momentum quickly; both in Afghanistan and throughout the war on terror.” Finished, the Chairman dramatically looked around the room into each eye, as if he was speaking to each one individually.
The President, leaning forward on the table, glanced significantly at the Secretary of Defense, “What do you think?”
With a hint of an impish grin on his face the SecDef looked back at the President through his thick glasses, “I think the Chairman is right. Politically, you are making an ultimatum to the Taliban by asking them to give up al-Qaeda. If that does not succeed, and I do not believe that it will, then we must focus on a strategic response. On that level, we stand a real chance of looking impotent, as we have in past responses to terror, if we do not use every means to focus our power on the Taliban center of gravity. The infrastructure of Afghanistan is not a center of gravity, this is a country not far removed from the middle ages. In fact, the Taliban has made almost every effort to turn the clock back 1,000 years. The Taliban and Al-Qaeda fighters in the field are the real strength and we need to destroy them as soon as we can.” The Secretary of Defense replied.
The President breathed deeply, in the expectant silence he looked down at his hands, “Gentlemen, you present me with few choices. When can we begin to use our air assets against Taliban troops at the front?”
“Sir, as a prerequisite we need CSAR coverage and our SOF troops on the ground with the Northern Alliance.” The Defense secretary replied matter-of-factly.
Sensing that everyone was waiting for him, the SecDef went on, “Mr. President, we are prepared to begin operations against southern targets tomorrow and should be able to use our air against targets in the north on or after the 13th of October. I expect to have at least one A team in country by then, possibly two, with more on the way. We will have to build slowly.”
The CIA Director broke in, “Our only specialty teams on the ground right now are in the north. We have no reliable contacts in the south and it will take a little time to build this. I recommend our initial focus be in the north. I understand that the air assets cannot initially focus on the north, but that is where our ground forces are.”
“Okay, if the Taliban do not turn over UBL and his men by tonight’s deadline then we will begin the first phase of the campaign. The first phase will be infrastructure targets in the south. As soon as our assets are in place we will focus on the second phase, Taliban and al-Qaeda in the north.” The President deliberately made eye contact with each person at the table in turn, “Ladies and Gentlemen the country needs results. Let us be clear on this, we do not want to be hasty, but we must act decisively. And quickly, or we stand the real chance of losing a war we cannot afford to lose.”
Everyone at the table nodded silently, concern, and worry painting their faces.
Just before noon the next day the President walked into the White House Briefing room, thronged with reporters, and stepped up to the podium. In the harsh lights of the TV cameras, he stopped and peered out into the audience. Clearing his throat, he began his prepared speech.
“Good afternoon.” he began, “On my orders the United States military has begun strikes against al-Qaeda terrorist training camps and military installations of the Taliban regime in Afghanistan. Our military action is designed to clear the way for sustained, comprehensive, and relentless operations to drive them out and bring them to justice. We will do everything in our power to provide food and medicine to displaced Afghanistan citizens; our action is not directed at them. It is the Taliban regime that did not meet our demand to turn over al-Qaeda in their midst. It is the Taliban regime that is a partner in terror. And now the Taliban will pay a price.”
© 2004 HS Perdue, All rights reserved.