“The weather has been good for the last few days, but could change any time. We must fit the warhead quickly and get underway,” said Rashid.
“How will we fit it without arousing the suspicion of the Russian captain?” Captain Moradi asked.
“Simple,” replied Kamani. “We tell him we are going to test fire one of the Stingrays as part of the training procedures and we need to have a dummy warhead to obtain full simulation.”
“Anyway, it will not matter once we torpedo this crate with the Russians on board,” said Rashid.
“Agreed, but we still need his experienced technicians to fit the warhead without taking the missile out of the firing tube.”
The others nodded in agreement.
“What do we do with the Korean?” Lieutenant Zaha asked.
“Kill him,” Rashid replied. “After the formal handover, his usefulness is over. We must keep up the pretence that he will command. If we leave him with the Russians, they might well cause trouble before we go – trouble we may not be able to contain. We’ll dispose of the body once out at sea.”
There was a short silence before Rashid continued. “First light tomorrow, we begin fitting the warhead and transferring the crews if weather permits. This has to be done quickly so that we can leave as soon as possible.” He turned to Captain Kamani. “Asad, you will take full command from this point on. We will assist you wherever we can and offer you counsel should you so require.”
“Thank you Ali, I agree we must leave here with all haste.”
“What course do you intend to take, Captain?” asked Rashid.
“We will take a course due west into the Atlantic, then head north, keeping as close to the African shoreline as we dare, cross the equator into the North Atlantic -”
“Have you been in contact with the outside world coming here?” cut in the Maru Blue captain, looking urgently at Rashid.
“No. Radio silence was maintained at all times,” Captain Kamani replied before Rashid could.
“Then you are unaware that the infidels have placed a blockade on the Koreas and are patrolling all entrances into the Atlantic, including the North Pacific,” said Captain Moradi.
“That will take a lot of warships!” Kamani shot back, seemingly shocked at what he was hearing. “How do you know this?”
“The maritime authorities issued a general signal, when we were one week out from Nampo, warning that all ships on the high seas could be boarded by international inspectors at any time. Fortunately, we missed the immediate blockade, but it has been a concern,” Moradi answered.
“What do you know about the patrols?” Kamani pressed.
“Not much, only what we have picked up from media broadcasts. They have reported that American and British warships have congregated in large numbers between South Africa and the Antarctic especially, and also in Drake Passage and up off Greenland. The reason: joint exercises, but it is obvious the infidels suspect something is in the wind.”
Kamani stared at Rashid. “What could they possibly know?”
“Maybe the Russians blabbed the sale of the sub… Possibly the Koreans – who knows?”
“Who knows! Who knows!” screamed Kamani angrily, slamming his fist down hard on the table, scattering cups and plates, glaring at the al-Qaeda negotiator. “By the sound of things, the entire world knows! Our whole strategy was based on stealth and surprise. The surprise element, it would seem, has now disappeared.” Then a few moments later, in a calmer tone, he said, “It does not matter. What does matter is that our task is now going to be that much harder and infinitely more dangerous.”
“Allah will protect us; we shall succeed,” said Rashid.
“That, my friend, we have to believe,” Kamani replied quietly.
“They cannot possibly know the target,” offered Zaha, Kamani’s XO. “That is surely known only to us and a trusted few?”
“You are correct,” Rashid answered. “But we can only assume they do not know; that is why the infidel is blocking all entrances into the Atlantic and patrolling the northern Pacific. They are covering all options.”
“I accept the target is unknown to them,” said Kamani. “But if the patrols are as intense as you say, we may never have the opportunity to reach it. I am not so concerned about the surface ships, it is the submarines. America and Britain have the most advanced hunter-killers; no doubt they will be out there in great numbers too. We would be extremely vulnerable if located and attacked.”
It was Ali bin Rashid’s turn to show a little anger this time, and he spat, “We are told that you are the best, Captain Kamani. A great deal of time, money and effort has been expended on this mission in the name of Allah. If you feel it is now beyond you, then I suggest we abort and return to find someone else less fearful to accomplish the task.”
The captain shot up from his seat and both men glared across the table at one another. For a moment it looked as if the two would come to blows.
The freighter captain quickly stepped in. “Please, in the name of Allah, this is not the time to fight amongst ourselves. We are the soldiers of the Great Almighty on a paramount mission; we must direct our energies towards the destruction of the infidel if we are to live in eternal peace.”
“This man has insulted me,” spat Kamani.
“I have not questioned your bravery, only your resolve,” Rashid replied sharply. “Nothing runs easy in this world. Is it not enough that I am prepared to place my life in your hands, even under the conditions we now face? I trust your judgement, no matter how good the submarines against us are.”
Kamani sat down, seemingly satisfied with the al-Qaeda negotiator’s attempt at an apology.
No one said a word for several seconds, then Kamani spoke. “Under the circumstances, we cannot risk entering the Atlantic as planned. We will have to try another way.”
“Another way!” Zaha exclaimed. “Not back up the Pacific, under the Arctic Ocean and then through the Norwegian Basin?”
Kamani did not answer, but continued to stare at the bulkhead beyond, deep in thought.
“Not Drake Passage?” Zaha pressed. “That way would be pure suicide.”
“Strait of Magellan,” Kamani finally said.
“Where is that?” Rashid asked.
“At the bottom of South America; it cuts through Chile, Tierra del Fuego and Argentina, joining the Pacific and Atlantic some 200 miles north of Drake Passage. It is worth a try; the Americans and British may not expect a sub to attempt the 360-mile long snaking passage bisecting the Andes in the west and the Argentinean pampas in the east. In places the Strait is very narrow and dangerous, currents are a hazard, but I have been through in a French sub and know what to expect. As I said, it is worth a try, and with a little luck it could be less risky than the alternatives. It will mean retracing our route here back along the Antarctic Circle for several thousand miles.”
“That is not too much of a setback if it means we can outwit the infidels,” said Rashid.
“I agree,” said the freighter captain. “But we can still expect a certain amount of warship activity with Drake Passage not that far to the south.”
“To a far lesser extent than in the Passage,” Kamani shot back. “Every mile of that 600 between the tip of South America and Antarctica will be covered, if what you say is true. However, there is a good chance warships will not be patrolling the mouth of the Strait. Once we clear it into the Atlantic we will head north slowly for 300 to 400 yards, hugging the coastline, losing ourselves amongst the noisy commercial inshore traffic, fish shoals, turbulent water and changing depths right up to the Caribbean. Then we shall head to the target as planned.”