Sabah summoned the courage to say, "I agree, Sheikh Omar. You must atone for you sins. I asked my cleric if I sinned when I took one of the women. He said I could go to Hell, but since I was not sure if it was a sin with an infidel woman and was truly sorry, that Allah would grant me pardon."
The sheikh took a deep breath and was thoughtful for several moments before speaking. "Very well. I will see to it that they are poisoned. Their corpses shall be taken out and fed to the sharks of the Indian Ocean."
.
WASHINGTON, D. C.
THE STATE DEPARTMENT
1 NOVEMBER
0900 HOURS LOCAL
HUSAAM Sakit, a special envoy from the Sultanate of Oman, glared incredulously over the desk at his host, Carl Joplin, Ph. D. This American Undersecretary of State had just given him some information that was completely illogical and unbelievable. Such a thing could not possible be true!
"All the money for the Zauba Fast Attack Squadron was funneled through the Wusikh Marahid Bank in Riyadh," Joplin had said. The African-American career diplomat referred to his notes as he continued. "The flagship called the Harbi-min-Islam and the Swedish attack boats were financed through that same account."
'This cannot be!" Sakit insisted. "The Oman Navy has no such units. The naval squadron at the Taimur Naval Base is no more than a few secondhand British coastal patrol boats. Their objective is to stop smugglers. Modem attack boats are not needed when one's adversaries are no more than wooden dhows propelled by wind and old engines."
"I suggest you investigate Taimur" Joplin said coldly. "You will find a modem naval base and as I mentioned, a flagship which is a British Province-class missile vessel." He cleared his throat. "Ahem! And you'll also discover a few overpaid officers and sailors as well. They and their families enjoy an excellent standard of living far beyond that of the rest of your nation's armed forces."
"If what you tell me is true, then Captain Mahamat, who commands, will be in serious trouble."
"Captain Mahamat evidently promoted himself to the rank of commodore sometime ago," Joplin informed him. "But you will not find him there. He was executed at the headquarters of al-Mimkhalif for losing a battle with an American vessel. A beheading, I have been informed. At any rate, they did shoot down two American F/A-18 Hornet aircraft and attacked a hovercraft of the United States Navy. All our protests will be kept under wraps and the President of the United States will not call in the Oman ambassador. But please inform His Excellency that we expect the situation at the Taimur Naval Base to be rectified. You should also let him know that all this information has now been supplied to other international intelligence agencies. Thank you."
Still confused and mentally reeling, the Oman envoy got unsteadily to his feet and walked slowly to the door.
.
1030 HOURS LOCAL
DR. CARL JOPLIN slowly drank a cup of coffee as he waited for his next caller. He had made notes of his meeting with Husaam Sakit from the Sultanate of Oman, organizing them into a file on the Zauba Fast Attack Squadron. This was now an official document of the State Department.
A slight rapping on the door caught his attention, and his aide, Durwood Cooper, stepped into the office. "The Saudi envoy is in the outer officer, Dr. Joplin."
"Did they send Hasidi as I requested, Dur?"
"Yes, sir," Cooper answered.
"Great!" Joplin said. "I'm looking forward to a chat with him."
Cooper went to the door, opening it to admit Jaabit Hasidi. The Saudi was a large, corpulent man with a short-cropped beard. His bald head reflected the overhead fluorescent lights as he walked into the office. He showed a half smile, saying, "What can I do for you today, Dr. Joplin?"
Joplin didn't bother going through a useless shaking of hands. "Sit down, Mr. Hasidi." He waited until the large man had wiggled himself in between the arms of the chair designed for normal-sized people. Joplin had chosen the piece of furniture so his caller would be physically uncomfortable. This was one of those times when it didn't pay to be a congenial host. Joplin began his presentation, stating, "I am representing the President of the United States on a grave matter. It is so serious that you may consider this a protest, although the details of it will not be released to the public nor sent through international channels."
Hasidi sighed. "We are not going to discuss the exaggerated subject of teaching hate of the West in our schools, are we? I believe we have already--"
Joplin interrupted in a most undiplomatic manner. "I am not offering you a game of three guesses, Mr. Hasidi. I have a statement. May I continue? Thank you. The government of the United States objects to the overt aggression brought against our armed forces through the direction of a Saudi citizen. The gentleman of whom I speak is Sheikh Omar Jambarah, who is heading up the al-Mimkhalif terrorists using the nom de guerre Husan."
'This is preposterous," Hasidi said. "I personally know Sheikh Omar. He is from an old desert clan that has shown great loyalty and respect to our royal family."
"He is financing an Oman naval squadron to carry out war at sea for al-Mimkhalif. The sheikh is also brazenly maintaining a headquarters base and various camps for al-Mimkhalif. He has suffered a setback and now he sits in a fortress on the border between Yemen and Oman, licking his wounds."
Hasidi held up his hands in a gesture of astonishment. "Why do you Americans insist we Saudis are your enemies? The kingdom is among the staunchest and truest friends your great republic has."
Joplin continued to ignore the protests. "The President of the United States expects King Fahd to take appropriate action to put an end to this outrageous activity."
"How can His Majesty take action against a phantom program that does not exist?" Hasidi asked.
"I shall report to the President that the Saudi government rejects his protests and warnings," Joplin said. 'This leaves him no alternative but to see that appropriate actions are taken. Thank you, Mr. Hasidi. Good day."
"Good day to you, Dr. Joplin," Hasidi said struggling from the chair to his feet. "My fervent hope is that the President of the United States acts prudently and cautiously, lest this situation gets out of hand. That is my advice to him."
'The President wouldn't be interested in your counsel," Joplin said.
.
USS DAN DALY
2 NOVEMBER
1000 HOURS LOCAL
BRANNIGAN'S Brigands and the two crewmen, Paul Watkins and Bobby Lee Atwill, stood at attention as the skipper, Commander Tom Carey, and Lieutenants (JG) Jim Cruiser and Veronica Rivers came into the ready room.
"At ease!" Brannigan commanded. "Take your seats." He waited until everyone had settled down. "All right, here's the skinny for this morning's pleasant little get-together. We're going out to commit some felonies on a mission called Operation Whup Ass."
"Haw!" Bruno Puglisi laughed. "Who named it that?"
"I did!" Brannigan snapped. "What's the matter? Don't you like it?"
"I love it, sir," Puglisi said, grinning weakly. "Whup Ass is a beautiful name. It sort of tugs at my heartstrings."
"I'm glad you're so crazy about the name, Puglisi," Brannigan said, shifting his attention back to the others in the room. "Now as I was saying, we're going to commit outrageous atrocities and numerous unmentionable acts."
Chad Murchison raised his hand. "What flagitious deeds are we going to perpetrate, sir?"
"Mainly kidnapping," Brannigan said. "Our mission will be to break into a terrorist stronghold called Fortress Mikhbayi and kidnap three individuals; namely, a sheikh, his field commander, and a crafty agent at large. Last night we acquired some satellite photographs of the installation. These are pics that have been around a while. No one took any special notice of them, thinking they showed no more than an unremarkable naval facility."