“With your permission, Captain,” Bud Helliwell said and opened the door.
“I’m going to get started on organizing the teams’ kits.”
Duncan nodded. As the compartment door closed behind the mustang, he spoke.
“Okay, at the minimum we have a day and a half before the Nassau battle group becomes the Nassau amphibious group and comes within range of Algiers. Let’s get busy. I want to see a double spaced rough draft plan by fourteen hundred. I’ll work the hostage rescue portion. You two. Beau and Mike, will chop it before we submit it’ to the commodore. I’ll be back as soon as I finish speaking with the colonel. Plus, I have to send a short message to my very dear friend Admiral Hodges.” Duncan slammed the door behind him as he walked out.
“I don’t think I’d want to be Admiral Hodges right now,” Beau said.
“Of course, he is in Washington and I am out here…. H. J.” you have anything to add?”
Yeah, she thought as she shook her head no. Have you ever noticed what Spanish men can do with their eyes?
CHAPTER SEVEN
Colonel Alqahiray's hidden eyes jerked from one screen to another. The detection lights running along the top of the intelligence screens glowed red, revealing four of the enemy’s overhead surveillance systems had moved out of coverage range. He ran his hand through his hair and then wiped it on the pants leg of his uniform. According to the intelligence profiles, provided by their friends, the absence of these four meant Benghazi was uncovered.
Amazing how simple math, geometry, modern technology, and balls allowed a simple Bedouin like himself to twist the tiger’s tail. He chuckled softly. Bedouin!
The only time he spent in the desert was in the army. He turned and paced to the right.
Another light turned red. Timing was everything. He wiped his chin and nearly knocked his cigarette out of his mouth. Something could go wrong. Something usually did.
The Americans were unpredictable. Just when you thought you had them figured out, they up and surprised you. Even old Saddam jerked them one time too many and look at divided Iraq today. He had this one chance. If, as planned, his comrades in Algeria did their job right, the Mediterranean would be sealed off to the American Navy. If he could keep them out for two weeks — that was all he needed.
He sighed. War was not for the fainthearted. He rubbed his stomach.
“Colonel,” Major Walid said, interrupting Alqahiray’s thoughts.
“The American battle group is moving northwest away from the American destroyer that remains in our waters.
It is as you predicted.”
Predicted! Allah’s will and luck, but never let your subordinates know you had any doubts.
“Of course, Walid. Let’s hope everything continues as expected. Americans are like the democracies and empires that have disappeared throughout history — complacent in peace and clouded by prosperity. Too wrapped up in their own over calculated importance to recognize their own decline.”
Alqahiray took a deep drag of the Greek cigarette, smiled, and continued, letting the harsh bluish smoke filter out his nostrils.
“Look at the virtual location display.”
He pointed to an intelligence screen overhead.
“See where the American warship USS Gearing is located, its southwesterly course and twelve-knot speed. Now look at the Nassau and her group. In four hours, even at five or six knots, they will be so far apart that the low-performance aircraft protecting this intruding warship will be useless, unless they are prepared to sacrifice themselves.” His smile broadened and he laughed.
“I don’t think they are! Besides, a Harrier against a MiG-25? Even the modern vertical launched jets are unable to offer a dogfight worthy of a true warplane. Even one of the age of a Foxbat.” He stubbed out the cigarette and tossed the butt at the nearby ashtray. Like most of the others, it missed. The ashtray was the cleanest item around him.
“What does radar show and coastal surveillance report?”
the colonel asked an operator to the right. He nib bed his day-old stubble, reminding himself he needed a shave. A military man must look military, but the past three days had required continuous attention.
“Sir,” the operator replied, “the American warship remains within our territorial waters. It is keeping a constant nine miles off the coast. Army electronic warfare units have identified the radar emitters and communications on the ship. We have downloaded the parameters into the electronic warfare system. The computers are revisiting their electromagnetic calculations for the third time.” He turned in the seat so he could look directly toward the colonel.
“Sir, we are ready whenever you are.”
The colonel nodded at the young soldier. He took a deep draw on a new cigarette, held the breath, and let the smoke slowly ease out. Even as a few whiffs of the strong Greek fag drifted out his nostrils, the colonel lifted the cup of tea beside his chair and sipped. It had gone cold. A few drops of tea fell from his mustache. When the mustache drops tea it’s time for a trim. He smiled at Walid. With the back of his hand he wiped his mustache.
“Have our friends said anything yet?”
“No, sir, not since they acknowledged event zero zero seven. We did receive an algorithm modification for the electronic jamming parameters and have already corrected the program accordingly. The weather forecast shows no expected changes for the next seventy-two hours. This algorithm should be good for that period.”
“What were the corrections?” the colonel asked.
Walid opened his mouth to reply. “No, no, no,” Colonel Alqahiray interrupted, waving his hand and shaking his head.
“Don’t explain, Walid. I wouldn’t understand it anyway.” Sometimes, he thought, Walid was a little too smart.
Colonel Alqahiray looked up at the event log just as it changed to reflect event zero one zero completed. Event zero zero nine remained “in progress.” Well, they had their problems and he had his. The next three events were his, and then he’d worry if event zero zero nine wasn’t complete.
He noticed two other events in the chain were due to commence soon, both crucial to the success of event zero one five. It had taken a lot of work to reach today. If Jihad Wahid continued as it was going, the American navy would be driven from and denied access to the Mediterranean.
History showed that the nation that controlled the Med controlled the world and he was going to lead the new nation that stole control of the gold ring known as the Mediterranean Sea. He looked around, checking to see if anyone was watching, paranoid that someone may suspect his ultimate purpose.
Alqahiray tweaked his nose. He’d like to sleep. He was so tired after three days of dozing in his chair and not leaving this room. Soon, he promised himself. He had managed a morning shower and to change uniform in the latrine connected to the room.
Jihad Wahid had taken so much energy and so much time to arrange. The talking, the planning, the juggling of egos to balance the varied agendas, the different political perspectives, and the myriad tribal animosities they’d had to get around to work together for this one purpose. It had been tedious and hard. Only he could have done it and it was a fragile coalition at best. The agreement centered on this grand scheme to return Arab greatness to the level it was nine hundred years ago when Bedouin warriors galloped across North Africa and into Europe to spread the one true religion to the infidels. With Jihad Wahid surging forward the forges of war would soon overcome the differences of the Arab world in peace. If they could stand together for a few more days, they would achieve their grand objective and then appear before the world as one.