Battlecraft (2006)

they suddenly stopped speaking as if on cue.

The youngest of the elders stood up. He appeared to be in his seventies, and he made a half-hour address to the assemblage, also obviously discussing Mike. When he finished, there were murmurs of agreement in the crowd. Khey now took the floor again, speaking only a sentence to the assemblage. He looked down at Mike. 'I have told them I shall speak to you in English to explain the decision of the council.'

'Fine,' Mike said, slightly worried. In truth, he really didn't know if he should be optimistic or pessimistic. 'Thank you.'

'In order for you to return to al-Mimkhalif, you will pass through dangerous territory with many bandits and bad people. They will kill you for the clothes on your back; your knife and pistol would be of great value to them also. Therefore, according to the dictates of our warrior code of Pashtunwali, our clan will provide an escort for you. This way you will be able to safely reach your comrades-in-arms and go to Paradise after you are martyred. We thank Allah he has sent you here to us so that we may serve the cause of your jihad.'

Mike Assad almost felt guilty about fooling these generous people; but not quite.

Chapter 9.

KUPANG, TIMOR ISLAND

OCTOBER 8

0900 HOURS LOCAL

BACH AM AN, the old clerk at the Greater Sunda Shipping Line, was a nervous man even during the best of times. Now, with his employer having suffered a forced amputation of his right hand for misbehavior, the elderly man lived in a perpetual state of terror. He feared that even guilt by association could bring him a similar fate. The possibility that the wrath of those outraged clients might be extended to him caused the old fellow sleepless nights, nervous nausea, and a pessimistic outlook that bordered on near paranoiac schizophrenia. When the door to the outer office opened and the Arab Hafez Sabah stepped inside, all those mental disturbances roared up in a psychotic detonation.

Bachaman screamed and ran out that same door.

Abduruddin Suhanto rushed from his office to see what had happened. The sight of his hated client further spoiled what was already a terrible day. Not only did the wrist that used to have a hand attached to it throb, but the missing member also felt as if it were still there. He glared at Sabah, asking, 'What happened to my clerk?'

'I do not know,' Sabah replied. 'I walked in and he screamed like a madman and ran out of the building.'

Suhanto knew exactly how the old fellow felt. 'What is it you want?'

'Let us go into your office for a more intimate chat' Sabah said.

Suhanto turned and led the way to his desk. He sat down, looking up at Sabah with an undisguised but futile fury in his eyes. 'I ask again. What do you want?'

'I have instructions you are to pass to the Philippine officer Aguilando,' Sabah said. 'You are to tell him that a shipment of Russian machine guns will be aboard the SS Jakarta bound for al-Mimkhalif. Describe the cargo as very valuable PKM seven-point-six-two-millimeter models. And that is exactly what they will be.'

'Where am I to pick up this shipment?'

'Follow established procedures,' Sabah said. 'Make sure those machine guns are aboard the Jakarta. Tell Aguilando that the ship will depart on October tenth at ten hundred hours following the usual course. Interception will be expected in the South China Sea. However, your captain is not to give the weapons to the Filipino when he rendezvous with him.'

'And what happens when Aguilando shows up and Captain Muharno refused to turn over the cargo?' Suhanto asked.

'That is not your concern,' Sabah said.

'It is my concern!' Suhanto angrily insisted. 'I have already lost one ship.'

'Believe me,' Sabah said, 'you will not lose the Jakarta. This I swear to you in the name of Allah.'

'Very well,' Suhanto said, knowing any further protests would be futile. 'How much will I be paid for participating in this deception or whatever it is?'

'You will be allowed to keep your left hand.'

'My God!' Suhanto cried. 'How much more must I endure?'

'It was your greed that brought you to this sad state of affairs,' Sabah reminded him. 'Do you have any questions?'

Suhanto shook his head, wincing as his wrist throbbed again.

.

ROYAL YACHT SAYIH

GULF OF ADEN

VICINITY 40deg EAST AND 13deg NORTH

1200 HOURS LOCAL

SHEIKH Omar Jambarah was not a member of Saudi Arabia's royal family, but his clan enjoyed close relations with the rulers of the kingdom. One of the perks of this friendship was unlimited use of the Royal Yacht Sayih.

Sheikh Omar's forefathers were no more than country bumpkins from outward appearances; however, during several centuries of intrigues, rebellions, wars, and political infighting on the Arabian Peninsula, the elders of the family always managed to choose the sides and causes that were victorious. Even between 1915 and 1927, when the British claimed the area as a protectorate, the headmen of the Jambarah clan continued to stick with winners, giving them genuine devotion and loyalty. In 1932, when the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia emerged from the chaos, Jambarah's grandfather was granted a sheikdom by the grateful royal family. Eventually, oil was found on the land, and the Jambarah clan became incredibly wealthy. They established a city-state, sending their sons abroad to be educated at the world's finest universities. The latest of these male offspring was the present ruler, Sheikh Omar.

Jambarah went further than simply taking advantage of excellent schooling. He broke free of his strict Islamic upbringing and fell into the sins of the flesh offered in the West. He dealt with this sinfulness with the rationalization that giving in to his base desires while not actually in a Muslim country meant he was not in conflict with Islamic law. He also used his abundant spare time and personal wealth to form the al-Mimkhalif Warriors of Fury to carry out a special jihad against the infidels. He did this not because of religious fervor, but to create a kingdom of his own that he would claw out of Saudi Arabia.

So much for loyal allegiance.

.

SHEIKH Omar Jambarah and his friend Commodore Muhammad Mahamat relaxed on deck chairs on the royal yacht's afterdeck. The naval officer and sheikh had been discussing the planned attack on the Philippine Patrol Boat 22 scheduled in two days. The imminent destruction of that point of irritation had put both men in a collective good mood. It was one less thing the sheikh had to worry about, and a grand opportunity for Mahamat to give his fast-attack boats a good workout the crews would enjoy.

The sheikh bit into a peach, chewing thoughtfully. 'Is there anything else we should be considering at this time, Brother Mahamat?'

'Yes, Sheikh Omar,' the commodore replied. 'The Americans have deployed an air-cushion vehicle in the operational area of their carrier battle group. Its tender ship is a new amphibious attack vessel called the Dan Daly. As of this moment that is all I know, but after I meet with my friend from the American Embassy in Muscat, I shall have much more intelligence.'

'Ah, yes!' the sheikh said. 'Ply the infidel with liquor, hey?'

'It does tend to make them talkative,' Mahamat said with a chuckle. 'And speaking of the ACV, it actually stopped our dhow at sea, and dispatched a boarding party to make a search.'

'Shu halmsibi--bad luck! What happened?'

'Not to worry,* Sheikh Omar,' Mahamat said reassuringly. 'The old ship was empty and Captain Bashir's papers were all in order.'

'Perhaps this is advantageous to our cause,' the sheikh mused. 'If the Americans see the Nijm Zark again, they will no doubt have no interest in her.'