The al-Haram, also known as the Great Mosque, is a massive structure. Huge walls and arches made of stone ring the area and are tiered to additional levels with the same curved arches. The walls are ringed by seven minarets that soar into the air for hundreds of feet. A total of sixty-four gates allow the pilgrims entrance; the entire area has a floor space of nearly 200,000 square feet.
The mosque dwarfs the Kaaba, which is only some sixty feet by sixty feet in dimension.
All Hickman and his team had to do was get inside the curtain surrounding the Kaaba, remove the sacred stone, which was mounted in a silver frame in a wall in the southeast corner of the structure some four feet off the ground, and replace it with the one from Greenland. Then they had to try to make their escape.
All in all it seemed fairly impossible.
HIS ROOM PHONE rang. The front desk clerk was alerting him to an overnight package that was waiting for him at the front desk. Hickman asked that a bellman bring it up to him. A few minutes later, there was a knock at the door.
Hickman opened the door, slipped the bellman a tip and took the package.
THE
“I’ve got her on radar,” Stone said to Hanley.
Hanley nodded and watched the exterior cameras as the amphibious plane appeared out of the gloom. Slowing, the plane dropped down and landed in the water and taxied toward the ship. Hanley watched as the deckhands secured it to the side and the team aboard climbed off. Then he reached for the radio.
“Ms. Michaels,” he called out to the pilot.
“Yes, sir.”
“The ship is bound for the Red Sea. How much sleep have you had recently?”
“Not much,” Michaels admitted.
“Make land at Spain and find a hotel room,” Hanley said. “After you’re fully rested, start making your way south. I’d take up refuge at an airport in southern Italy for now—you should be close enough there that we can call you if we need you.”
The amphibian had proved a useful tool, but it was just too large to take aboard the ship.
“Very good, sir,” Michaels said.
“One of the men is coming out to you with two stacks of hundred-dollar bills,” Hanley said, “ten thousand dollars in total. Can you safely fly alone or do you want someone to go with you?”
“No, sir,” Michaels said, “I’ll be fine.”
“If you need more funds, just call,” Hanley said. “We can wire to you wherever you move. Now get some rest, but keep the plane fueled and ready to go at all times.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And Michaels,” Hanley said, “you did a hell of a job. I know this was your first pilot-in-command mission and I want you to know the Corporation couldn’t be happier.”
“Sir,” Stone said, “we have Adams inbound in the Robinson.”
Michaels poked her head at the side door of the plane and glanced up at where she knew a remote camera was mounted. She gave Hanley a thumbs-up, then climbed back inside and secured the door. Walking back to the cockpit, she started the engines then keyed the microphone.
“I hear Adams on the radio,” she said, “so I’ll clear out now.”
The lines were taken back aboard the
“Let’s get Adams safely aboard,” Hanley said, “and get back up to speed.”
Two minutes later the Robinson appeared over the fantail and dropped onto the pad.
As soon as the helicopter was secured to the deck, Hanley ordered full speed again.
CABRILLO SLEPT LIKE a rock until 11 A.M., when the hotel front desk telephoned to wake him. Cabrillo ordered breakfast, then telephoned Jones’s room.
“I’m awake, sir,” Jones said.
“Shower, change and meet me in my suite for breakfast,” Cabrillo said.
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” Jones said.
Cabrillo had already showered, and he was shaving when the room service waiter knocked on the door. Dressed in his robe, he answered the door and motioned for where the waiter should place the cart. Walking over to his wallet on the dresser, he removed a bill and attempted to hand it to the man.
“Sorry, sir,” the waiter said, “the emir has taken care of everything.”
The waiter disappeared out the door before Cabrillo could argue. He finished shaving and dressed in clean clothes. He was adjusting the television to watch the news when Jones knocked on the door. Cabrillo let him in and the two men started on breakfast. Jones was halfway through his omelet before he spoke.
“I haven’t met the emir, boss,” he said. “What’s he like?”
“The emir is in his mid-fifties and very progressive in his thinking,” Cabrillo said. “He’s allowed the United States military to maintain a base here for a few years. In fact, the entire Second Gulf War was based from the airfield here.”
“How are his connections with Saudi Arabia?” Jones asked.
“Usually good,” Cabrillo said, “but that can change day by day. The Saudis are always running a fine line
