The Madrid-based agent had confirmed the instrument flight plan earlier that morning. Now the time of takeoff had been verified.
Shayhidi was going to Tripoli for a meeting expected to last at least two hours. The information was immediately sent to the White House and given to President Macklin.
After the big jet lifted off the runway, a recently hired male flight attendant approached Shayhidi. "May I take your order, sir?"
"V-Eight juice, cashews, and warmed marshmallows," Shayhidi demanded in a condescending voice.
A pained look formed on the mans face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Shayhidi, but we dont have any marshmallows."
"What do you mean, you're sorry?" Shayhidi's eyes squinted. "You imbecile, make sure you have them in the future. Do I make myself clear?"
"Yes, sir." The man's voice quivered. "What?"
"Yes, sir, you made yourself clear."
"I can't hear you"
"You made yourself clear, sir!"
"Then get on with it. Don't just stand there looking like an idiot." Shayhidi waved his hand lazily as if he were shooing a fly. The humiliated attendant turned and retreated to the galley He was back with the juice and cashews in less than a minute.
His aides at the conference table, and the stunning Brazilian model accompanying Shayhidi, would eat and drink exacdy what he ordered. That was standard operating procedure for everyone in Shayhidi's upper echelon. While the three senior managers worked on the presentation to be given to the Libyan oil officials, the tall woman with the pouting lips watched a movie about beauty queens. Rachel Portinari was blessed with an incredibly beautiful face and a perfect figure, but she would never be mistaken for a member of the intelligentsia.
Finishing the juice, Shayhidi walked to his executive desk in the office just forward of his stateroom. He signed the papers neatly stacked in the basket and then jotted down a few ideas he wanted to convey to Khaliq Farkas. Using his latest inspiration, Shayhidi sent Farkas a coded e-mail, the first since Farkas reentered the United States.
Echelon Two intercepted Shayhidi's message. The NSA analysts were disappointed to see the indecipherable gibberish. However, they were able to confirm that the destination server placed Farkas in the Idaho-Utah area. They would have to regroup and again work overtime to outmaneuver the wily Shayhidi.
When his plane began descending near Libya, Shayhidi sent an uncoded message to his home office in Geneva. He then took a hot shower and changed into a fresh suit for the important meeting in Tripoli. If things worked in his favor, he planned to celebrate wildly with his trophy girlfriend on the way back to Geneva.
Northrop Grummans high-altitude long-endurance unmanned aerial vehicle became the first such UAV to cross the Pacific Ocean successfully. The surveillance craft flew from Edwards Air Force Base in California to a military base outside Adelaide, Australia, a distance of 8,550 statute miles. Global Hawk traversed the Pacific in approximately twenty-two hours. Preprogrammed by ground-station personnel for the long flight across the ocean, the UAV was constantly monitored but not controlled, even when it encountered severe turbulence and unpredictable weather.
With a wingspan of 116 feet, the single-engine reconnaissance UAV has a range of over 16,500 statute miles at altitudes up to 65,000 feet. Dispatched with a maximum takeoff weight of 25,600 pounds, the autonomously controlled aerial platform can remain airborne for forty-two hours. Equipped with infrared capability and optical cameras, a synthetic aperture radar, and a four-foot satellite dish, Global Hawk can provide responsive data from anywhere in the world, day or night, regardless of the weather conditions.
When the UAV is employed as a surrogate surveillance satellite, a controller can redirect the vehicle anywhere in the world without having to wait for the next orbit to change course. Global Hawks can carry out their missions in more than one theater of operations while a single controller oversees the entire operation.
Because the UAV operates at a significantly lower altitude than a spy satellite, its sensors produce higher-resolution images with less distortion. The downside to using the UAV is the constant worry about colliding with commercial or military aircraft while ascending or descending. Upgraded models would address the problem of collision avoidance.
Based in the United Arab Emirates, one of the stealthy Global Hawks was loitering high over Tripoli, Libya. Situated along the southern coastline of the Mediterranean Sea, Tripoli is Libya's capital, largest city, chief seaport, and a haven for terrorists of all stripes.
Operating at 63,000 feet and flying much slower than its cruise speed of 454 miles per hour, the Global Hawk detected Shayhidi's BBJ. When the corporate jet entered Libyan airspace, the undetected UAV monitored radio calls between the pilots and the controllers. After the Boeing Business Jet landed in Tripoli and parked on the ramp, Global Hawk sent near-real-time intelligence imagery to President Macklin via worldwide satellite communications links. The integrated sensor suite in the UAV provided the commander in chief and his decision makers unparalleled reconnaissance data.
Normally, Saeed Shayhidi preferred holding meetings in the safety of his plane, but diplomatic precedence, formality, and etiquette had to be followed for each occasion. Over the years, Shayhidi had compiled a thick instruction manual that included rules and regulations, necessary customs, and dress codes for most of the countries in the world.
For each host, president, sovereign, monarch, emperor, chieftain, prime minister, or crowned head, certain strict guidelines had to be followed to the letter. Today, a pair of identical limousines would take Shayhidi and his managers to the meeting site, while a third limo would cater to the dark-haired beauty from Brasilia. Rachel Portinari would go sightseeing and shopping during the stopover. While the jet was being refueled for Shayhidis flight to Geneva, he approached the first limousine in line. His underlings walked to the second limo.
Exhausted from being on duty round the clock for three days, the Syrian pilots went over the flight plan for the last segment of the trip and then took a nap in the jet. The disconcerted flight attendant tidied the BBJ and went to see if he could find marshmallows in Tripoli.
President Cord Macklin projected the image of the consummate Washington politician, though he still thought of himself as an aging air force fighter jock. The former F-105 Thunderchief pilot — Thud driver, in fighter parlance — had survived many close calls, including being shot down, during his two tours in Vietnam.
Tall and trim, with silver-gray hair and deep blue eyes, Macklin was always impeccably attired, be it in a business suit, evening wear, or a pair of denim jeans and a cable-stitch sweater. An avid golfer and trapshooting enthusiast, he possessed a great sense of humor and a self-deprecating personality that made people feel at ease. Although Macklin was a thoughtful, considerate man, he didnt suffer fools well.
The Oval Office was quiet while the president reviewed the latest reconnaissance information from Global Hawk and various space-based assets. Knowing the window of opportunity was rapidly closing, Pete Adair, Hartwell Prost, and General Les Chalmers were impatiently waiting for their boss to make a decision.
Leaning back in his chair, Macklin removed his tortoiseshell spectacles and turned to Prost. "What do you recommend?"
"Not wasting another minute."
The president was pleasantly surprised by Prost s emphatic response. The QM2 tragedy had everyone on edge. "Pete?" Macklin asked.