Battlecraft (2006)

she was in for a long period of enduring unrequited love.

'If I were an aviator,' Veronica said aloud to herself, 'my call sign would be 'Frustrated Female.''

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DHOW NIJM ZARK

15 OCTOBER

1100 HOURS LOCAL

CAPTAIN Bashar Bashir turned to Mike Assad and Hafez Sabah standing on the small quarterdeck with him. Down below, staying close to the railing, were the two ex-baker apprentices Imran and Ayyub, who were in the final agonies of a shared bout of seasickness that was beginning to ebb away.

'See how the American planes only take a quick look at us and fly away?' Bashir said.

Mike Assad felt homesick at the sight of the United States Navy aircraft. 'They do not seem interested.'

Sabah nodded his agreement. 'Not long ago an American boat crew came aboard to inspect the dhow. They examined Captain Bashir's papers and his cargo hold. They found nothing.'

Bashir laughed. 'It was a good thing we were coming back from delivering arms instead of carrying a cargo. At any rate, they are under the impression we are no more than an innocent merchant vessel.'

'Most fortunate,' Mike said.

'But our leadership is not going to take any chances,' Sabah said. 'Even at this moment a plan is being formed to lure the American boat into a trap and sink it.'

'It was a strange boat,' Bashir said. 'It flew over the water at a very fast speed.'

'No amount of speed will save it from the wrath Allah will impart on its infidel crew,' Sabah said confidently.

'Attamam--excellent!' Mike said, thinking he had to get the word out on this very real danger to a U. S. Navy vessel. His first order of business when they returned to Camp Talata would be to get to his dead-letter drop.

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MIKE Assad had become a celebrity of the al-Mimkhalif terrorist band after his escape from a supposed period of captivity at the American Embassy in Pakistan. The exploits of his cross-country adventures had been systematically exaggerated with each telling and retelling among the mujahideen. He was no longer thought of as the simple American with more bravado than good sense. Mikael Assad was now regarded as a cunning, clever fighter.

Kumandan, as al-Mimkhalif's field commander, had pulled him from the operational detachment and placed him directly under Hafez Sabah's authority. The American was to work closely with the agent in coordinating the finer details of the group's maritime and smuggling activities. The leader even assigned them the two former apprentice bakers Imran and Ayyub as their personal bodyguards. The two youngsters had been wild with happiness over the honor. When Imran and Ayyub reported to take up their new duties, they swore a solemn mukaddas oath on the Koran that they would willingly give up their lives for Mikael and Sabah.

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NOW Mike and his companions continued the voyage aboard the old wooden vessel. This was an orientation trip for the American so that he could see firsthand how the arms were passed over to the dhow for delivery to the seer -rendezvous point off the Pakistani coast.

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1345 HOURS LOCAL

THE lookout clinging to the top of the main mast suddenly shouted out, 'Hai hi ahi! The Jakarta dead ahead!'

Mike looked in the direction everyone else did and could see nothing for several moments. Then the shadowy figure of a ship could be sighted on the horizon. As the two vessels drew closer, Mike saw that the stranger was a small freighter. After a few more minutes, he could see the ship was not a particularly smart one. Streaks of rust coursed down from the deck to the waterline and the paint on the hull was faded and peeling.

Sabah walked up to stand beside him, speaking in English. 'That is the ship we meet to pick up our arms shipments. She is the Jakarta from the Greater Sunda Shipping Company. The owner is a miserable sinner by the name of Suhanto. He tried to cheat us a while back. Since he was a thief, we cut off his right hand as dictated in the Koran.'

Mike made a mental note of the names Suhanto and the Greater Sunda Shipping Company for his next dispatch. 'How do you know when and where to meet this ship?'

'That is information you need not know at this point,' Sabah said. 'But not to worry. Much will be revealed to you when the time is right.'

'I understand,' Mike replied.

As the two ships maneuvered for the exchange, Imran and Ayyub took their AK-47s and positioned themselves to cover Mike and Sabah in case of treachery. It took three quarters of an hour before everything was in position and lines held the dhow and freighter close together. Captain Bacharahman Muhamo of the Jakarta stood at the rail of his ship looking down at the Arabian vessel.

'Marhaba!' he called in greeting to Captain Bashir. 'How do you fare, old friend?'

'I am well, shukhar,' Bashir yelled back. 'What do you bring us today?'

'Automatic grenade launchers,' Muharno said. 'From Spain.'

'Did the cowardly Spaniards give them to us out of fear more of their trains would be blown up?' Bashir asked with a cackle.

Muharno shook his head. 'La! These were stolen from their garrison in Gibraltar. At least that is what I am told.'

'They'll do nothing about this theft,' Sabah yelled out as he joined in the conversation. 'The Spanish government's fear of the mujahideen is now unlimited.'

Mike was familiar with the weapons that were about to be turned over to the terrorist group. During his SEAL career, he'd been introduced to the LAG-40 automatic launchers that fired 40-millimeter high-velocity grenades at a rate of 215 per minute. The deadly missiles were pulled into the receiver for firing on linked belts that could hold up to thirty-two rounds. With a range of 1500 meters, they were a perfect ambush weapon. He glanced up at the freighter captain. 'How many launchers you got?'

'A dozen, my friend,' Muhamo said. 'Who are you? I do not believe I have seen you before.'

Sabah interjected, 'He is one of our greatest heroes who must remain nameless for the present. We do not wish his presence to be known.'

'I understand,' the captain said. He turned to check his crew's activity on the deck. 'Ah! We are ready to transfer the cargo.'

The net holding two crates was pulled from the hold by the crane, and swung over above the deck of the dhow. Mike watched as the transfer of the deadly cargo began.

Chapter 11.

DHOW NIJM ZARK

PAKISTANI COAST

VICINITY OF 23deg NORTH AND 07deg EAST

16 OCTOBER

1000 HOURS LOCAL

MIKE Assad had been surprised that their all-night voyage from the rendezvous site with the SS Jakarta back to Pakistan had not been discovered by U. S. Navy aircraft. He had mixed feelings about the possibility of being spotted; on the one hand it would keep the lethal automatic grenade launchers out of the hands of terrorists, but his effectiveness as a mole would be ended then and there. He still had plenty to learn about the new operational procedures al-Mimkhalif planned to use for supply deliveries. A second arrest would make any additional 'escapes' incredulous to the enemy. That would be a disaster since it was vital that the SEAL find out who the real leaders were behind the organization. When that was discovered, the right people with the right attitudes could eliminate the rag-heads with extreme prejudice.

Now the crates of grenade launchers were being wrestled onto rafts by the dhow's crew. Several men from