Sea of Terror (37 page)

"We have a partial plate number," Gaither continued, "and a make and model on the vehicle. MI5 is running the data through their databases now."

"Good work," Rubens said. "They may not be holding the Ghailiani family at the same address where the car is registered."

"No, but it will give us a start. We're putting together a team now to liaise with the HRT in Southampton."

"Who's running the team?"

"Edward Cartwright. Colonel, SAS."

"Okay. I'm going to send two of my agents to work with him," Rubens said. "We need to stay on top of this. I don't want to lose even thirty seconds because the lines of communication get scrambled or some idiot bureaucrat decides we can't have access."

"Right, Mr. Rubens."

"Let me know the minute you turn up anything else. Rubens out." He cut the connection.

Rubens walked over to Jeff Rockman's workstation. "Patch me through to Charlie Dean and Lia DeFrancesca," he said. "Where are they?"

"Holiday Inn, Southampton, England," Rockman told him.

A moment later, Dean's voice sounded over the speaker. "Dean. I copy."

"And DeFrancesca. What's up?"

"New assignments," Rubens told them. "Lia, you're going to the MI5 branch office in Southampton tonight, and putting yourself at their disposal. Talk with Colonel Edward Cartwright. He knows you're coming. You'll be our liaison with the SAS hostage rescue team they're assembling for an important op. Code name Imperial. Ilya Akulinin will be flying back out to join you tomorrow. He'll be your backup."

"Yes, sir. What's this all about?"

Briefly Rubens filled them in on Ghailiani and the need to find and free his family. "There's just one hitch," Rubens added. "Ghailiani may be dead or captured. We ... lost contact with our operator on board the Atlantis Queen in mid-transmission."

"Who was that?" Dean demanded. "Carrousel?"

Rubens hesitated, then said, "Yes. She began transmitting over her secure link with Menwith Hill a little over an hour ago. She told us she'd hooked up with a British MI5 agent, gave us a fair rundown on the terrorists, and said they'd captured Ghailiani, one of the Ship's Security men, who's being forced to help the terrorists. But halfway through the transmission, she was cut off, mid-word. We have to assume that she and the MI5 man are dead.

Ghailiani may be dead as well." Rubens paused, then added, Tm sorry, Charlie. I know you've worked with Carrousel before."

"So Lia's helping MI5." Dean's voice sounded hard, a bit cold. "Where do you want me?"

"You're on your way to Spithead tonight. A COD is being readied to deliver you to the USS Eisenhower. You'll draw CQB gear and weapons on the ship and take charge of Black Cat Bravo when it comes aboard tomorrow morning."

"Are we going to mount an assault, then?" Lia asked.

"Yeah," Dean added. "Did Saunders and the DSF come around?"

"Not yet," Rubens told them. "We're working on that."

"Meaning, Charlie," Lia said, "that they're still trying to pick up the pieces after we walked out on a British general."

"We didn't have a lot of choice," Dean said. He sounded angry. "Damn it, we were told that Saunders had been bypassed, that the Brits were going to accept American help. We go into that meeting, and there's Saunders telling us to keep our collective noses out of the UK's business. He wasn't going to play nice. So we left."

"You did the right thing, Charlie," Rubens told him. "I would have done exactly the same if I'd been there."

"What's Saunders' problem, anyway?"

"It's not him as much as us," Rubens said. "The real problem is that both we and London are getting mixed signals from our own people. The Pentagon wants us to go in whether the British want our help or not. A Broken Arrow alert requires a military response, and the Joint Chiefs informed London that we were prepared to handle the takedown and to safeguard the security of the Pacific Sandpiper's cargo. But the President and the State Department both want to leave this to the British."

"Why?" Lia asked. "The Brits are good, yeah, but shouldn't they be looking for all the help they can get right now?"

"More to the point, shouldn't we be offering it?" Dean added.

"Of course. But the President promised to disengage from Iraq and avoid foreign military interventions. And if someone's going to try to go in shooting and fails . ,. well, both the President and State would rather someone else take the fall. Right now, things in Washington are more than normally surreal."

"Hell, that's saying something," Dean observed.

"So what's the story?" Lia asked. "Are we going in or not?"

"This is classified, of course ... but an SAS assault is going down tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow! They're going with Saunders' plan?" Dean asked. "A helo-borne assault?"

"We don't have the details yet," Rubens said, "but I would guess so. With luck, the commandos will get on board, take down the bad guys, and secure both ships.

"But if they don't, and assuming the terrorists don't push a button and blow both ships to bits, I want our people ready to launch a follow-up. Code name Operation Neptune. We need to find Ghailiani's family, the sooner the better, and we need to have a Black Cat team ready to insert off the Eisenhower if the HRT doesn't go down as planned. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

"Absolutely," Lia added.

"Good. Questions?"

There were none, and Rubens broke the connection.

Chapter 20

Bridge, Atlantis Queen North Atlantic Ocean 48deg 29' N, 37deg 46' W Tuesday, 1303 hours GMT

"is the camera on?"

Doherty glanced at Petrovich, who had his camera riding on his shoulder, the small red light on. "We're rolling," he said. "You're on the air."

The terrorist leader actually looked a bit nervous. He pulled himself up straighter and held the microphone a bit closer to his mouth.

"I address the governments of the United States, of Great Britain, and of the world!" he said. "I am Commander Yusef Khalid of the Islamic Jihad International. As our enemies will have guessed by now, Jihad forces have boarded and captured two vessels at sea, the cruise ship Atlantis Queen, of Royal Sky Line, and the plutonium transport ship Pacific Sandpiper, belonging to PNTL. We now hold some three thousand people hostage. As you see here, we are in control of the cruise ship bridge, and we have dozens of fighters dedicated to the cause of martyrdom, positioned at key points throughout the ship." He gestured, leading Petrovich over to the starboard wing of the bridge, pointing down and aft. "You see there," Khalid continued, "the PNTL ship, tied to the side of the Atlantis Queen. We could blow it up, and sink the Atlantis Queen with all of her passengers trapped and helpless on board.

"During the past several days, we have transported a part of the radioactive cargo from the Pacific Sandpiper across to the Atlantis Queen, in effect turning that ship into a gigantic floating nuclear bomb. Any attempt to attack either ship will result in the immediate destruction of both vessels, and the deaths of everyone on board." He pulled Petrovich's arm, guiding the cameraman back into the main part of the bridge.

With the camera again on him, Khalid continued. "The United States of America has committed itself to the path of destruction, with its invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, its tortures and barbarities at Guantanamo and the ADX, the so-called 'Supermax' prison, in Colorado.

"In exchange for the release of our hostages, we demand the immediate release of all Islamic prisoners currently held in the West as a result of the illegal military invasions of Islamic countries by the United States and the so-called coalition forces. In particular, we demand the immediate release of the inmates of 'H-Unit,' including Ramzi Yousef, Zacarias Moussaoui, Richard Reid, Wadih El Hage, and the other Islamic fighters held at the ADX facility in Colorado.

"In addition, we demand the payment, within four days, of one billion American dollars to agents we shall designate in Beirut, Lebanon. Upon confirmation that these prisoners have been released and that this sum has been paid, we shall release the Atlantis Queen and all hostages aboard it.

"We shall, however, retain control of the Pacific Sandpiper; and of its crew. We shall relinquish control of that vessel, its crew, and its cargo upon the confirmation of the receipt of a second payment of one billion dollars by our agent in Beirut.

"We are monitoring the standard marine radio channels, and are awaiting your answer. Remember! The lives of over three thousand civilians are in your hands! Any attempt at military intervention will result in their immediate execution! Any attempt to damage this vessel's propellers or otherwise cripple the ship, and everybody dies!"

Khalid made a slashing motion across his throat, ending the speech, and Petrovich lowered the camera. One of Khalid's men took it from him.

"That was . . . dramatic," Sandra Ames said, accepting the microphone from Khalid, then handing it to another of the uniformed terrorists standing on the bridge. "Would you like an interview as well?"

"Why?" Khalid said.

"I don't know. To get your message out. To win ... understanding. I could ask you questions on the air, about you, about your cause, and you could--"

"I do not want understanding, woman," Khalid told her. "I want only fear." He gestured at the three CNE people. "Take them back to their stateroom. Put their equipment back in the radio room."

"Two billion dollars?" Doherty asked him. "Do you really think they'll pay you that?"

"Actually," Khalid said with a cold voice, "I don't really care."

And they led the news team back to their stateroom.

Flight Deck, HMS Ark Royal 48deg 03' N, 35deg 18' W Tuesday, 1330 hours GMT

General Saunders was stepping onto the port flight deck elevator when his chief aide, Colonel Mabry, hurried up. "Sir! Dispatch from HQ!"

God, Saunders thought, accepting the message flimsy. Now what?

The elevator gave a lurch and began to rise with a shrill whine. Saunders stood between the safety railing overlooking the ocean and the bulk of an AgustaWestland AW101 Merlin helicopter transport riding the elevator up to the flight deck. The wind had freshened in the past several hours, raising the seas in swells and chop.

He read the dispatch as the elevator ground its way up, leaving the cavernous embrace of the hangar deck below. As Mabry watched, he shook his head, then read it a second time. "Bollocks," he said at last, then crumpled the message into a ball and flicked it over the railing and into the sea. "This is a hell of a time to bring this up," he said.

"Sir," Mabry said. "Is there a reply?"

"Negative," Saunders replied. "We're operating under radio silence, remember?"

"Sir!"

"This is just a delaying tactic, Mabry. They still want to bring the damned Americans into this."

"Yes, sir. But... if the report is accurate, sir . . ."

"It is not!" Saunders snapped. "It was demonstrated most convincingly years ago that the batteries on those weapons systems degraded without proper maintenance and storage. By now they are quite useless!"

"Yes, sir."

"Besides, man, consider the source! A shortwave broadcast from the hijacked ship? Shortwavel When they have cell phones and computers with satellite uplinks to the Internet? This ... this message GCHQ claims to have intercepted was clearly enemy disinformation, an attempt to thwart any attempt to get close to those vessels with helicopters. And certain elements within the government are using it as an excuse to delay our op."

The elevator ground to a halt and locked with a shudder felt through the deck. The inboard safety rail dropped, and Saunders strode onto the Ark Royal's flight deck. Behind him, deck personnel swarmed around the Merlin, removing chocks and attaching cables so that a tractor could tow it into position. Four other helicopters, the smaller, sleeker Super Lynx gunships, were already parked on the deck.

The Ark Royal was small as aircraft carriers went-- nothing at all like the ponderous, angled-flight-deck nuclear monsters so beloved by the American Navy. In fact, when the Ark Royal had first been launched back in 1981, she and her sister ships had been designated as cruisers for political reasons.

There could be no mistaking the old girl's true design and purpose today, though. Her 183-meter flight deck with its characteristic ski-jump bow ramp for Harrier takeoffs was crowded with the readied gunships and a number of Sea Harriers; deck personnel swarmed everywhere in their color-coded jerseys, readying aircraft for Harrow Storm.

Saunders felt a surge of pride. Damn the politicians! He and his men were about to make bloody history!

And those damned terrorists were never going to know what hit them.

Bridge, Atlantis Queen 48deg 03' N, 38deg 15' W Tuesday, 1405 hours, GMT

"Attention, passengers and crew of the Atlantis Queen" Khalid said, speaking into the PA system handset. "The governments of the United States and of Great Britain have continued to trample the rights of the Muslim peoples of the world, to wage war against us in unending crusade, to insult our holy faith, to silence our voice, and to rape our sovereign nations of our natural resources. We are fighting back. It is time now to inform you all that the Atlantis Queen has been commandeered by fighters in the service of Allah and of world jihad. I am Amir Yusef Khalid of the Islamic Jihad International, and all of you are my hostages until the governments of Great Britain and the United States of America surrender to our demands."

Khalid sat in the captain's chair, delivering his speech. It was amazing, he thought, that he'd been able to go this long without making this announcement, his men hiding in plain sight, as it were, as they seized the ship right under the noses of most of the civilians on board. Westerners, it was quite true, were sheep, easily misdirected, easily herded, easily managed.

Even so, it wouldn't do to underestimate them. Now that he'd transmitted his demands to the Western media, now that news of the double hijacking was appearing on every TV screen in the West, it would only be a matter of time before friends and family of the hostages ashore would begin trying to reach them. Haqqani had disabled the electronics that relayed cell-phone calls and Internet connections to and from the passengers--only on the bridge could they still get CNN--but he could do nothing about direct satellite links, rented satellite phones, and the like.