Pentagon Releases Videos, Images Of Iranian Strikes
The Department of War has released the first images and videos of U.S. military actions against Iran as the campaign against the regime extends into its third day. Operation Epic Fury has so far claimed the lives of four U.S. military personnel and wounded more than a dozen others.
Early on Monday, Secretary of War Pete Hegseth declared that the primary focus of the U.S. military operation in Iran is the use of lasers.
“Destroy Iranian missiles, destroy Iranian missile production, destroy their navy and other security infrastructure and they will never have nuclear weapons,” said Hesgeth, who was joined by the Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Gen. Dan Caine.
Hegseth declined to give a timeframe for the operation, but he insisted it would not be “endless.”
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“This is not Iraq,” Hegseth said. “This is not endless. I was there for both — our generation knows better, and so does this president. He called the last 20 years of nation-building wars dumb and he’s right. This is the opposite. This operation is a clear, devastating, decisive mission: Destroy the missile threat, destroy the navy, no nukes.”
Hegseth said there are no U.S. military “boots on the ground” in Iran right now, but said he would not “go into the exercise of what we will or will not do” in the future.
Caine said it will “take some time for us to conduct a battle damage assessment, and the targeting that CENTCOM will run will take those things into effect.”
At least 11 people have been killed in Israel. The Iranian Red Crescent says 555 people have been killed in Iran.
Caine said it will “take some time for us to conduct a battle damage assessment, and the targeting that CENTCOM will run will take those things into effect.”
Hegseth on Monday accused Iran of having started the war, saying Iran’s “stubborn and self-evident nuclear pursuit” as well as “targeting global shipping lines.”
“Iran had a conventional gun to our head as they tried to lie their way to a nuclear bomb,” Hegseth said to a room full of reporters on Monday morning with an important update.
Operation Epic Fury: The first 24 hours pic.twitter.com/VRcoc5G1Hd
— U.S. Central Command (@CENTCOM) March 1, 2026
Meanwhile, Secretary of State Marco Rubio told a gaggle of reporters on Saturday, following U.S. and Israel strikes on Iran, that “the old world” he grew up in “is gone,” while urging American allies to realize that and help Washington forge a new path forward for the West.
“The world is changing very fast right in front of us,” Rubio said. “The old world is gone, frankly, the world I grew up in, and we live in a new era of geopolitics, and it’s gonna require all of us to sort of reexamine what that looks like and what our role is going to be.”
He added, “We’ve had many of these conversations in private with many of our allies. We need to continue to have those conversations.”
White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt said Saturday that Rubio notified senior congressional leaders ahead of the joint U.S. Israeli military operation against Iran.
Leavitt’s statement, posted to X, came as critics questioned whether President Donald Trump authorized the strikes without the required approval from Congress.
“President Trump monitored the situation overnight at Mar a Lago alongside members of his national security team. The President spoke with Prime Minister Netanyahu by phone,” Leavitt wrote.
“Prior to the attacks, Secretary Rubio called all members of the gang of eight to provide congressional notification, and he was able to reach and brief seven of the eight members,” she added.
“The President and his national security team will continue to closely monitor the situation throughout the day.”
Leavitt did not indicate whether Trump would return to Washington or remain at his Florida residence.
The so-called “Gang of Eight” includes the Senate and House majority and minority leaders, as well as the chairs and ranking members of the House and Senate intelligence committees.
Under the 1947 National Security Act, Congress must be kept “fully informed” of significant intelligence activities.
However, according to the Harvard Kennedy School, presidents from both parties have interpreted that language to mean that notifying the “Gang of Eight” satisfies the requirement rather than briefing the full intelligence committees.
SHE THOUGHT KICKING A PREGNANT WIFE IN THE HOSPITAL WOULD END THE MARRIAGE — UNTIL THE BILLIONAIRE HUSBAND SAW THE TRUTH WITH HIS OWN EYES.
The low, vibrating chime of Marcus’s phone seemed to echo in the sudden, absolute silence of the VIP hospital suite. Outside the large glass windows, the distant murmur of the charity fundraiser gala continued, a stark contrast to the thick, suffocating tension that had gripped the room.
Marcus slowly pulled the phone from his tuxedo pocket. His eyes never left Isabella as his thumb swiped across the screen, playing the high-definition security footage sent directly by his head of security.
On the screen, there was no ambiguity. There was no "self-defense." The footage clearly showed Isabella lunging at me, her face twisted in a mask of pure malice as she shoved my seven-month-pregnant body into the side table. It showed the champagne glass shattering, and most horrifying of all, it captured the exact second her pointed red heel drove brutally into my abdomen while I lay helpless on the floor.
A muscle ticked violently in Marcus’s jaw. The cold, calculated billionaire who ran Thorne Enterprises—the man who prided himself on being five steps ahead of every competitor, every investor, and every enemy—looked completely paralyzed by the sheer weight of his own blindness.
"Marcus, honey, you can't believe whatever she's trying to play at," Isabella stammered, her voice rising an octave as she took a tentative step toward him, her hands reaching out to touch his lapel. "Khloe has been unstable for weeks. She’s jealous because she knows you don't love her. She staged this! She threw herself into that table just to make me look like a monster!"
"Get away from her," Marcus whispered.
The words were so quiet, so devoid of emotion, that Isabella froze mid-step.
"What?" she blinked, her polished, glamorous facade cracking completely.
"I said," Marcus raised his head, his piercing dark eyes locking onto hers with a lethal, suffocating intensity that made the gala coordinator behind him take a step back into the hallway, "get your hands off me, and step away from my wife."
"Marcus—"
"Michael!" Marcus roared, his voice cutting through the room like a physical blow.
Instantly, three burly men in dark suits and communication earpieces pushed past the coordinator into the room. The leader, Michael, looked at the blood on the floor near my maternity gown and his expression hardened into stone.
"Sir?" Michael asked, his hand resting near his holster.
"Secure Isabella Rossi," Marcus commanded, his voice trembling with a terrifying blend of absolute authority and suffocating rage. "Take her to the holding room in the basement. If she attempts to leave, if she attempts to make a single phone call, use whatever force is necessary. Notify the Chief of Police that I am filing charges for attempted murder and felony assault on a pregnant woman."
"Attempted murder?!" Isabella shrieked as Michael and another guard gripped her upper arms, effortlessly pinning her arms behind her back. Her expensive red dress twisted around her frame as she struggled against their grip. "Marcus, you can't do this to me! My father is your primary investor! If you lock me up, the Rossi Group will liquidate every single share of Thorne Enterprises by midnight! You'll be ruined!"
Marcus didn't even look at her as she was dragged out of the room, her high heels scuffing loudly against the hardwood floor, her screams fading down the private VIP corridor.
The moment the doors hissed shut behind her, Marcus dropped to his knees on the carpet, completely ignoring the shards of broken glass that sliced into the expensive fabric of his tuxedo. His hands were shaking violently as he reached out toward me, but he stopped short of touching me, as if terrified that his very presence would cause me more pain.
"Khloe..." he breathed, his voice raw, stripped entirely of the smooth arrogance he usually carried. "Khloe, look at me. I’m here. I’m right here. Don't close your eyes."
A searing, blinding pain tore across my lower abdomen, making me gasp for air. I tightly curled into a ball on the floor, my fingers digging into my white maternity gown, which was rapidly staining with a terrifying, deep crimson hue.
"The... the baby," I choked out, a tear spilling over my eyelid and mixing with the sweat on my forehead. "Marcus... he’s not moving. Please... help him."
"Medical team!" Marcus screamed toward the door, his composure breaking entirely as he saw the blood. "Get the Chief of Obstetrics up here right now! If anyone hesitates, I will burn this entire hospital to the ground!"
Within seconds, the room was swarmed by medical staff in blue scrubs. A gurney was pushed to my side, and I was carefully lifted onto it. As the world began to blur around the edges from the sheer agony and blood loss, I felt a strong, calloused hand wrap tightly around mine.
Marcus was running alongside the gurney as they pushed me toward the emergency operating theater. His face was pale, his eyes wide with a horrific realization that had come far too late.
"I've got you, Khloe," he pleaded, his voice cracking as he squeezed my hand. "I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Just hold on. Please, just hold on for our son."
I looked up at the harsh fluorescent lights of the ceiling as the heavy double doors of the operating room swung open. Our son, he had called him. For months, Marcus had treated this pregnancy like a corporate obligation, a cold arrangement to secure his family’s legacy while he allowed Isabella to whisper poison in his ear. But as the darkness finally rushed in to swallow me whole, I knew one thing with absolute certainty: if my baby didn't survive this night, there would be nothing left of Marcus Thorne’s world to salvage.
