Camp Talata had brought the floating devices through the gentle surf that washed up almost languidly on the Pakistani beach, rowing them to the side of the dhow. When the cargo was transferred, it would be taken back to the shore for the final trip to the al-Mimkhalif stronghold.
Mike was impressed with the skill of the mujahideen as they deftly handled even the heavy crates, putting them properly aboard the rafts to distribute the weight evenly across the plank decks. This was the first time he had witnessed this phase of the operation. As soon as the job was done, Mike and Hafez Sabah, along with the two former apprentice bakers, jumped aboard one of the rafts for the short voyage to the shoreline.
When the rafts were beached, the Toyota pickups arrived from concealment on a hill that looked down on the scene. Once more it took pure muscle as the weaponry was wrestled up onto the vehicles. When Mike turned to look outward from the beach, he could see that the dhow was already well on its way out to sea. The SEAL was fascinated by the ancient vessel, realizing this type of ship had sailed that area of the world for centuries. It was possible that his own ancestors may have once used the vessels in their long-ago lifetimes.
The sound of shouts broke into his reverie, and he saw it was time to begin the trip up to the camp. He was honored to see that, like Sabah, they had left a place for him in one of the cabs. Imran and Ayyub jumped into the back of a truck with other mujahideen.
.
CAMP TALATA
1445 HOURS LOCAL
KUMANDAN sat cross-legged on the carpet in his tent, contentedly smoking his hookah water pipe. Mike Assad and Hafez Sabah, similarly seated, faced him. The field commander took a drag and exhaled, then passed the mouthpiece over to Sabah. After his turn, Sabah gave the device to Mike, who treated himself to a shallow drag. As a nonsmoker, he did not inhale, merely taking a mouthful and blowing it out. Kumandan could tell that Mike was not enjoying the pipe, so he politely set the mouthpiece down when the American passed it over to him.
'I have called both of you here for a very pressing matter,' Kumandan said. Since the politeness of greetings, a snack and the hookah water pipe had been observed, it was time to get down to business. 'Important orders concerning you both have come down from al-Mimkhalif's high command.'
'We are honored,' Sabah said.
'As well you should be,' Kumandan said. 'It has been decided that you will be sent on a very special and dangerous assignment. This will involve you in the deepest secrecies of our brotherhood. You are going to visit the heart and soul of al-Mimkhalif.'
'Our honor is tripled,' Sabah said, deeply moved.
Mike leaned forward in anticipation. He hoped he would have enough time to send the information through his dead-letter drop before being shipped out.
'As of now we are going to place you and your bodyguards away from the others in camp,' Kumandan informed them. 'You are to move all your belongings into a tent that is even now being erected for your use. Guards will be placed around it on a twenty-four-hour basis, allowing no one but me to speak to you. Your food and water will be brought to you, and a portable latrine will be placed just behind your quarters. Do you have any questions?'
Mike felt a deep stab of disappointment. This situation was exactly like the premission isolation phase of SEAL operations. Now there was no way that he could get word out through the dead-letter drop. He cleared his throat and spoke in his crude Arabic. 'Can you tell us where we go?'
'You will not know your destination until you arrive,'
Kumandan said. 'Now you must get your things. Do not forget your bodyguards. I shall call upon you at the tent later with more instructions.'
Mike and Sabah got to their feet, salaamed, and left the tent.
.
TAIMUR NAVAL BASE, OMAN
18 OCTOBER
1345 HOURS LOCAL
THE dusty limousine drew nearer to the distant front gate of the base after a monotonous but high-speed nine-hundred-kilometer trip down from the port city of Ras Alhad. The vehicle had been made available from them upon their midnight arrival at the port in the dhow. During the journey, the four passengers in the spacious back of the vehicle--Mike Assad and Hafez Sabah along with bodyguards Imran and Ayyub--had enjoyed air-conditioned comfort. The scenery may have been no more than bleak desert terrain, but the refreshments provided the travelers more than made up for the wearisome countryside. Between restless napping, Mike and Sabah consumed fruit juices, sodas, candy, and pastries. Imran and Ayyub snacked too, but took their bodyguard duties serious enough for both to remain alert and awake at all times.
However, there was one disturbing aspect of the long ride. The quartet of travelers did not know their exact destination when the trip began, and this unexpected arrival at an Oman naval base unnerved Mike to a great extent. The thought occurred to him that he might have been compromised. Perhaps the mysterious entity who picked up his messages at the letter drop had rolled over for al-Mimkhalif. He glanced over at Imran and Ayyub, who sat with their AK-47 assault rifles nearby. Those weapons might end up being used to protect him; or perhaps kill him in a violent act of revenge. Mike turned to Sabah, speaking in English. 'Have you been here before?'
'No,' Sabah said. 'But I know about this place and the man that is supposed to be in command.' He suddenly pointed ahead over the driver's shoulder. 'There is the entrance.'
The two young naval sentries on duty gave the vehicle and passengers a careful scrutiny, then allowed the limo to continue onto the base. The driver went down a well-paved road for another ten minutes before buildings and dockside structures came into view through the hazy desert air. The ride ended in front of a two-story building where a petty officer opened the door to allow Mike and his companions to disembark.
The quartet of visitors followed closely, and Mike was more than a little relieved that their escort was not a firing squad. The two bodyguards slung their weapons over their shoulders as the group was led into the edifice and upstairs to an outer office. Evidently they were expected, for a door was being held open for them. Imran and Ayyub stayed outside while Mike and Sabah stepped into an office where an officer, bearing the large gold band of a commodore on his epaulets, stood up.
'Welcome to the Zauba Fast Attack Squadron,' the officer said in perfect English, beaming a smile at Sabah. 'It is good to see you again, brother.'
'The feeling is mutual,' Sabah replied. 'I did not know whether it would be you greeting us or some other officer.'
'You and your friend have been deemed important enough to be brought to me personally.'
Sabah indicated Mike with a nod of his head. 'Allow me to introduce my companion, Mikael Assad.'
Mahamat smiled at Mike. 'You seem uneasy, my friend.'
'Indeed,' Mike said. 'I was not expecting to be brought to such a place as this.'
'Sit down,' Mahamat invited. 'Brother Sabah and I met on a couple of occasions in the past. Thus, I shall explain the situation to you.' He waited until his guests were comfortable before continuing. 'We are an isolated unit, far from our higher headquarters. As far as everyone is concerned, we are conducting normal routine coastal patrols. That is an impression we work hard to maintain.'
'I see,' Mike said. 'Am I to understand the impression is not entirely accurate?'
Mahamat laughed. 'Of course it is not!'
Mike's thought processes were going full-speed as he assessed the meaning behind the commodore's words. He was not surprised by the officer's next utterance.
'We are part of al-Mimkhalif.'
Sabah turned to Mike. 'And what do you think of that, Mikael?'
'I am flabbergasted,' Mike said, not having to feign shock and surprise. 'How clever of our leaders.'
'I have been informed of you, Mikael,' Mahamat said. 'You are a hero to our brotherhood. Imagine! An escape from the American Embassy in Islamabad, then making a lone journey of evasion across Pakistan to rejoin your
