Mike Assad was a healthy young robust man with the appetites common to that breed of male humans. He had not seen his girlfriend in California since early September and here it was closing in on November. All his natural hominess surfaced in the first split second of Hildegard's appearance. His mouth was dry and it took him a moment to respond to the surprise. "Well... now ... uh ... hello ... Hildegard."
"I brought a bottle of cognac," she said. "I do not know what is your favorite drink. But I always thought cognac well serving."
"Oh, yeah! Cognac is great."
She walked across the cabin, completely familiar with the interior, having entertained guests there many times. Some glasses were available in a cabinet next to the head, and she got a couple, then turned to give him a wink as she dropped the towel. After allowing him a moment to feast his eyes on her beauty, Hildegard walked over and joined him on the settee. She handed him the cognac to open, holding out the glasses. Mike quickly tended to the chore, pouring them each a generous serving.
Hildegard smiled and raised her libation. "Here is to a wonderful evening for the both of us."
"I'll drink to that," Mike said happily.
.
2330 HOURS LOCAL
MIKE Assad and Hildegard Keppler sat up in the bed leaning back against the padded headboard. Both were satiated from an intense period of sex that had carried the woman beyond her whore's immunity all the way to genuine passion as she experienced a trio of multiple orgasms. The physical release left her susceptible to both alcohol and emotion.
The original bottle of cognac Hildegard had brought with her to the cabin was long gone. More had been sent for, and now another had also been turned into a dead soldier and a third was being shared by the couple. This time they didn't bother with glasses, simply passing the bottle back and forth between them. Although Mike was tipsy, he was still under control. He needed information and here was a good source. "Have you ever been to Mikhbayi?"
"Sure, darling," she said. "Many times have I been there."
"What's it like?"
"It is like a castle near the water with guards," she said. "Inside is a little town. But we women on the yacht to go there are not allowed. We must stay aboard the yacht at the docks."
Mike had already figured the place boasted a waterfront since the sheikh was sailing the Sayih to the facility. "Are there lots of boats?"
"Oh, ja" Hildegard said. "The big freighter and passenger ships cannot come in close, so they are having boats that go out and get people and bring them to the dock."
Mike's mind was completely sober now. That meant good-sized harbor craft that would not only have to fetch in people, but cargo too. The German woman's mood began to ease down into a depression to the point where she suddenly burst out into tears..
Mike was alarmed. "What's the matter, Hildy?"
She snuffed and turned her face to his. "The sheikh--that verdammen sheikh--he killed my best friend Franziska."
Mike was impressed by the information and wanted to leam more, but it might be dangerous for the woman to speak aloud. He gently put his finger on her lips. "Shhh, sweetie," he whispered. He got up and went over to the CD player on the dresser, slipping in a French jazz disk. After going back to the bed, he got in beside her.
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, whispering because he was.
"We mustn't be overheard," he said, gendy putting his fingers on her lips. "This place is prob'ly bugged. Microphones."
"Oh, yes," she said. "And cameras too. The rotter likes to look at tapes of his guests having sex."
"No shit?"
"All we women have watched them with him," Hildegard whispered. "So excited he gets."
"Strange dude," Mike said. He reached over and turned out the lights. "Listen to me. Why do you say the sheikh murdered your friend?"
"I know she got on this ship and then she is gone away," Hildegard said. "She did not go back to shore. She is dead and thrown into the ocean. No other thing could have happened to her."
"Can you prove this?"
"AJein--no, I cannot."
Mike thought a moment. "Would you like to get revenge on him?"
"Rache--revenge. Oh, yes!" Hildegard said, beginning to sob again.
"You got to listen very carefully," Mike said. "I can help you with this. But you must do everything I tell you."
Now it was Hildegard's turn to come out of the haze of alcohol. The words just uttered to her brought a sharp stab of angry satisfaction into her consciousness. "What do you want me to do?"
"At first nothing," Mike said, "except to not speak of this friend again. Make no reference to the incident, understand?"
"Yes!" she said enthusiastically. "Are you going to kill him, Mike?"
"What I can do could result in something he would consider much worse than death," Mike said.
She looked around the room. "We better do sex again so there will be no suspicion." She turned the lamp back on.
Mike did what he had to do.
Chapter 15.
FORTRESS MIKNBAYI
VICINITY OF 10deg NORTH AND 53deg EAST
THE COAST BETWEEN YEMEN AND OMAN
25 OCTOBER
SHEIKH Omar Jambarah's al-Mimkhalif stronghold was a large walled garrison located some fifty meters inland from the sandy coast of the Arabian Sea. Millions of oil dollars from the Jambarah family's sheikdom and gifts from certain elements of the Saudi government had financed the construction of the fortress, and paid for its continuing maintenance. The place was built mostly of steel-reinforced concrete with sandbags along the top. Stations for recoilless rifles and heavy machine guns were spaced regularly along the walls, although they were not armed or manned. The interior was made up of a power plant, a water-purification facility, dispensary, living areas for the permanent staff and their families, and a headquarters building. Next to that was a special compound designed for the benefit of the sheikh's special friends, guests, and garrison officers. This latter structure consisted of quarters, dining facilities, and a recreation hall. Additionally, a small mosque complete with a minaret tower was located in the northeast comer. The local mullah ascended the minaret and called the faithful to prayer five times a day. This procedure was known as the Adhan, and began with the familiar takbit, which proclaimed, "A/-lahu Akbarthis--God is great!"
Even Jambarah could not flout the laws of Islam by bringing his pleasure women into the fortress for sexual playtimes. Consequently, Hildegard and her friends remained on the yacht and could not come out on the deck for fear of offending the sensibilities of the fortress inhabitants. Even if they changed from the thongs into Westem-style dress, the sight of adult females not wearing burkas would be unacceptable to the general population. Islamic extremists among them would have caused a lot of bother, and they were in the majority within the population. The sheikh could have dealt with the fanatics, but it would have been a time-consuming struggle, causing bad feelings that would echo throughout all other terrorist organizations.
In truth, the presence of the concubines was an open secret, but nobody dared discuss the situation or call attention to it; not even the mullah. As long as the sheikh and his entourage did not flaunt their sinful activities by partying within the walls, everyone acted as if nothing was amiss.
The Sayih was moored at the docks that ran out from the beach to the natural harbor formed where the sea bottom dropped abruptly to a depth of some ten fathoms. Mike Assad had moved from the yacht to the officers' complex within the walls, but he visited Hildegard regularly during the ample spare time he enjoyed between meetings with the sheikh. It was more than lust and her usefulness in his mission that attracted the SEAL to the beautiful German woman. During times when their sexual appetites were satiated, they sipped cognac and talked, and Mike learned to like her. She spoke English, as did anybody receiving even a basic education in Europe, though her grammar and accent were far from perfect. The SEAL especially enjoyed hearing about her former life in Germany.