lined up before the king and each individually swore loyalty to him in front of the others. They all did so without one moment's hesitation. The two surviving officers refused to swear loyalty to the true king of united Libya-and were executed on the spot by a knife thrust to the heart, by their own men.
'Turns out most of these men were from the same town, west of Tripoli,' Sanusi said several minutes later after he rejoined Patrick and the other Night Stalkers. 'They are based at Al-Jawf. They were sent out to investigate the reports of nuclear weapons and possible hostile military presence at Jaghbub. They believe that if they made contact with any enemy forces Jaghbub was going to be attacked by attack helicopters and bombers from Zillah or rockets from Al-Jawf.'
'Strange that the Libyans haven't sent more troops, Your Highness,' Hal Briggs observed as the day wore on. 'They lost three attack helicopters and a light armor scout platoon-I thought they'd be a bit more curious as to why.'
'They didn't lose them,' Sanusi replied with a smile. 'The platoon has checked in every hour on the half hour, as ordered. The platoon is continuing their search of Jaghbub. They have encountered heavier-than-expected radiation levels, however, and are advising against sending any more forces toward the town.' He was pleased at Briggs's smile.
'Clever, sir. But you realize that won't last long.'
'We have extended the fiction another day or two, I think,' Sanusi acknowledged. 'But soon the platoon will be relieved, and that's when Zuwayy will strike with force.'
'That's why we need to attack,' Patrick said. 'Let's get back to Jaghbub and get our planes in the air.'
CHAPTER 7
'Grumble Twelve, this is Lion Seven at checkpoint two-nine-three.'
Dead on course. With all the activity around the base as the division got ready to go to war with the Egyptians, it was a relief to have a helicopter crew where it was supposed to be, especially at night. 'Acknowledged, Lion Seven,' the Libyan air defense radio operator replied. 'Radar contact, four-eight kilometers bull's-eye. Verify altitude.'
'Altitude four hundred.'
Checked-right on course and altitude, although he was very late checking in. If only all the army aviation guys did it this well, the air defense operator thought, his job would be a lot easier. 'Acknowledged. Descend to two hundred meters on course. Are you a single ship?'
'Affirmative, Lion Seven.'
The commander of the S-300 surface-to-air missile site stood behind the radar station and Optronics officer's station, listening in. He narrowed his eyes in thought. 'He is very late-almost outside the code change time limit,' he said, verbalizing his thoughts to the backs of his crew's heads. Radio and identification codes were changed daily, and deployed units had to return to receive new ones within three hours of the changeover time or risk getting shot down without warning. 'Does his transponder check?' he asked his radio operator.
'Yes, sir.'
Something still didn't feel right. The commander keyed his command channel radio button: 'Lion Seven, are you single ship tonight?'
'Affirmative.'
'Where are your wingmen?'
'One unit is daeyikh,' the pilot of the inbound helicopter reported. That meant it had been destroyed. 'The other unit has stayed behind to assist. We are returning for a code change.'
'Acknowledged,' the commander said. That was standard procedure: Perhaps an officer aboard the undamaged helicopter had returned with this crew to pick up new decoding documents, because no aircraft could approach Zillah, especially at night but anytime under this wartime posture, without a valid transponder code.
The S-300 commander, situated thirty kilometers northeast of Zillah, had already alerted his battery and the two flanking missile batteries of the approaching helicopter five minutes ago when it popped up on radar. The S-300 air defense system, one of the best all-altitude long-range surface-to-air missile systems in the world, had managed to pick up the low-flying helicopter ninety kilometers away even though it was only four hundred meters above the desert-the S-300's powerful multiscan radar could pick up aircraft as low as thirty meters' altitude or as high as thirty thousand meters and as far as three hundred kilometers away.
There were only three security ingress routes into Zillah, and they changed daily. All flight crews were required to cross a route entry point and then fly a designated ingress track until positive visual contact was made. The S-300 system also employed a powerful target-tracking low-light telescope, normally used in high-radar- jamming environments or when the radar was down, but was used routinely for aircraft identification. While the aircraft stayed on course, the S-300 Optronics operator could easily locate and track it. Each aircraft had an identifying infrared-fluorescent code stripe on its nose and sides to aid in long-range identification; the stripes were changed on a random basis, usually once every week.
The commander stood over the primary radar engagement officer and his assistant, frowning at his own confusing thoughts. While the radio operator verified the authentication codes, the radar officers checked the transponder identification codes, which showed up on the radar screen along with the target's speed, altitude, and call sign. Everything checked okay. So why was he so nervous about this inbound?
'Air defense alert,' the commander said suddenly. He looked at his watch, then made a note in his log. 'All units, prepare to repel airborne attackers. This is not an exercise.'
His crew members turned to look at their commander in surprise, then snapped their necks around, frantically checking their indicators and screens for any sign of an intruder, something they missed. There was nothing. But they responded anyway: the deputy pressed a button on his control panel, which sounded a Klaxon throughout the battery that an attack was imminent; reload crews began making preparations to load another four-round missile rack onto the transporter-erector-launchers; and a warning was sent out to all aircraft and all air defense units in the region, warning of an impending attack.
The brigade command phone rang almost immediately: 'Lieutenant, what do you have?' the air defense brigade commander asked.
'Inbound Mi-24 attack helicopter, Lion Seven, sir.'
'Does he authenticate?'
'His codes are almost invalid, but as of right now, he has been verified.'
'Any other targets?'
'No, sir.'
'Then why did you issue the air defense warning, Lieutenant?'
The commander swallowed but did not otherwise hesitate: 'Sir, Lion Seven left his wingman behind, even though he reported another wingman destroyed. All of our aviation units understand the importance of returning to base to be issued up-to-date authentication documents-they must do so unless they are actively engaging the enemy.'
The brigade commander hesitated. The lieutenant was a prior noncommissioned aviation officer, well experienced in both air defense and aviation procedures-at least, the lieutenant hoped the brigade commander remembered.
But it came down to only one thing, which the brigade commander pointed out moments later: 'That's not a violation of procedures or a cause for issuing a general air defense warning. So… you're saying you have a hunch, is that it, Lieutenant?'
'Yes, sir.'
'Well, you're allowed all the hunches you like, Lieutenant-it'll keep the men on their toes,' the brigade commander said after another lengthy, agonizing pause. 'But may I remind you that your battery will have to reposition to another location after the alert is over, so your men will be up all night.'
