"It don't matter now," Mike said. "It was completely destroyed except for the flagship. It is still at the naval base with some of the surviving personnel who are waiting to be resupplied and refinanced."
"That will not happen!" Paulsen said forcibly.
"Right," Koenig agreed. "We'll work on that straightaway."
"Sounds like a job for the special section of the State Department," Paulsen said. "Dr. Joplin is the man to handle that."
Mike got up to pour himself another cup of coffee, then came back to his chair. "The number-one agent for al-Mimkhalif is a guy named Hafez Sabah. I got to tell you, he's one hell of an organizer. He took over the arms-delivery activities of the group and it's still going like a well-oiled machine. He was educated in Britain and speaks fluent English."
"We have him on a list," Paulsen said. "Any more names?"
"Just two," Mike said. 'The field commander for the al-Mimkhalif is a pretty savvy guy called Kumandan. It's not his real name--it actually means 'commandant' in Arabic-- but he knows how to organize and direct combat, recon, and security operations. I wasn't able to find out his real identity; they're real careful about that."
"Who's the other guy?" Koenig asked.
"Here's a big one" Mike said. "And I got in good with the son of a bitch. Sheikh Omar Jambarah. He's a Saudi who rules a small but wealthy sheikdom within the kingdom. His clan is in good with the Saudi government for past support, and they ended up in an area that's practically floating on oil."
"The name is familiar," Paulsen said.
"I know about him," Koenig interjected. "He's just one of a list of potential assholes, but now we know to upgrade him."
"Well, he uses the war name Husan," Mike said. "He is the supreme leader of al-Mimkhalif."
"Holy shit!" Carey exclaimed.
"He operates out of two places," Mike continued. "One is the royal yacht Sayih that the Saudi government has more or less given him as a gift. It's sort of a permanent loan without a lease. He has a coastal fortress that's nestled along the border of Yemen and Oman," Mike said. "It's at sixteen degrees, fifteen minutes north and fifty-three degrees, five minutes west. I checked the GPS in the whaler boat before I took off."
Carey laughed. "I think that should be sufficient enough for us to locate it."
"Anything else?" Paulsen asked.
"I think that's it, but I'm sure I'll remember other stuff eventually," Mike said.
"Okay then," Koenig said. "You've given us some good intelligence, so we now have some for you." He paused with a grin. "Al-Mimkhalif's field operations are wiped out--at least for the moment. Three different groups of mujahideen made a run for safety, but were intercepted by the Pakistani Army and shot up bad. The prisoners' morale was low and they rolled over quickly under some vigorous interrogation. The result of what they gave up resulted in a raid on Camp Talata by Pakistani paratroopers. They found the place deserted."
"Did they get Kumandan?" Mike asked.
Paulsen shook his head. "No. We figure he got away with the best men after sacrificing the sad sacks "
"Now let's get to another matter" Carey said to Mike. "Give us the scoop on that German broad you've been out boating with."
"Her name is Hildegard Keppler and she was one of the call girls Sheikh Omar kept on that yacht," Mike said. "I showed an interest in her and he gave her to me as a playmate."
"What did you do?" Koenig asked. "Fall in love with her or something? Is that why you brought her out with you?"
"No," Mike said. "I brought her along as an asset. She's prob'ly fucked half the terrorist leadership in the Middle East. Not all of them guys are devout Muslims, know what I mean?"
"Way to go," Carey said. "She's staying with Lieutenant Rivers right now."
"Let's get her down here," Paulsen said. He glanced at Mike. "Take a break, guy. You've done a great job."
"All in a day's work."
.
1000 HOURS LOCAL
CAREY, Paulsen and Koenig looked up as Lieutenant Rivers came into the ready room with Hildegard Keppler. Veronica introduced the men to the Gierman woman and they shook hands with her in a friendly, respectful manner, inviting her to take a seat. Veronica had no need-to-know regarding the interview, and made a hasty exit so they could settle down for an intimate tete-a-tete with the woman.
Hildegard, sunburned and haggard from exhaustion and exposure, did not look her best, but she was still attractive. The trio of intelligence men appreciated what they saw in her femininity. Paulsen began the proceedings with a simple question. "Would you tell us your name, please, and where you're from?"
"I am Hildegard Keppler and from Germany I am," she said. "I was bom in the East in the city of Dresden "
"And you were in the employ of Sheikh Omar Jambarah?" Paulsen inquired diplomatically.
"Ja," Hildegard said, her sunburn hiding the blush that crept across her face.
"You performed your duties aboard a yacht called the Sayih, I believe."
"Ja."
"Do you know who owned the ship?" Koenig asked.
"Somebody told me the Saudi government."
"I understand from Mike that you had the opportunity to meet a lot of Arab men aboard the yacht," Carey said. "Is that true?"
"Ja."
Koenig took a folder off the desk and handed it to her. "Here are some photographs of some Middle Eastern gentlemen. Would you look at them, please, and tell us if you recognize any?"
Hildegard took the photos and started to look at them; then she glanced up at the three Americans. "A good woman I am! After united was Germany, we had no work in the East. I did what must I do to get by."
"Of course you did, Ms. Keppler," Paulsen said in a kindly tone. "We understand perfecdy. We are all men of the world, do you understand?"
"Ja, danke--thank you," Hildegard said. She began going through the photographs, carefully studying each one. When she finished, she had separated a half dozen from the group. "On the yacht come these men."
Paulsen tried not to grin at the Freudian slip. 'Thank you, Ms. Keppler. What do you know of the gentlemen?"
"They with the sheikh had many dealings," Hildegard said. "Always big meetings they had with much talk. Arrangements of many kinds, but the things they planned I do not know."
Koenig was extremely happy with the six identified photos. Four of them were Saudis who were suspected of working closely with terrorists while putting on a facade of friendliness toward the United States. Diplomacy and sensitivity in certain areas had made outright accusations imprudent. That situation was now changed. "You have been most helpful, Ms. Keppler."
"I am happy" she said. She hesitated, then said, "My friend Franziska Diehm murdered by the sheikh. Will you arrest him, please?"
Carey leaned forward. "Why would the sheikh murder her?"
"Certain I am not," Hildegard said. "I know that pregnant she was."
"Actually," Paulsen said, "we're planning on doing much more than simply arrest Sheikh Omar Jambarah."
Hildegard smiled through her chapped lips.
.
WHEN Mike left the ready room, he went directly to the wardroom, where Lieutenant Bill Brannigan and Lieutenant Jim Cruiser were drinking coffee as they went over some of the scheduled maintenance that had to be done on the ACV. The rest of the detachment was out on the flight deck getting the kinks worked out by double-timing up and down the length of the ship. Senior Chief Buford Dawkins ushered them through the activity with rude remarks punctuated by loud shouts of criticism.
Mike snapped to in front of the skipper. "It looks like I'm officially back with the detachment, sir."
"Right," Brannigan said. "How're you feeling, Assad? It must have been pretty rough out on that whaler boat."