Retribution

CHAPTER TEN.

  British Sovereign Base Area, Akrotiri, Cyprus, September 25th.

  ‘What are these?’ John Henderson asked in surprise.

  ‘Dossiers on the team responsible for the hijack,’ Mike told him. ‘The girl sitting next to me was a pretty good artist; she had the knack of capturing a face, even an expression. She sketched them when they weren’t looking; it was too hot to wear masks. Each one is a good likeness. I made the notes and collected the objects. The objects carry fingerprints and in some cases hair and tissue traces. While I’m in the States I want you to dig up every bit of information you can on these chicken-shit heroes calling themselves the Blood of Shatila’

  John looked at the accumulated information. The sketches looked good, the bits and pieces of information were scrappy, but to John’s experienced eye had potential. If he could refine what Mike and the girl had produced there would be a useful body of information.

  ‘You went to London to interview the two Blood of Shatila terrorists when they were in custody; I sent you.’

  ‘That’s right, and I made some educated guesses at the time and fired some of the guesses into them and touched a few exposed nerves – got reactions. Although they didn’t talk, their expressions spoke volumes.’

  ‘And you put in a report when you got back.’

  ‘Of course, it’s on file.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll drag it out and add it to what we’ve got here. Ben Levy may have some information on this group and we owe him for the Iranian and Syrian stuff. We could copy him on this information, would you mind?’

  ‘No, but I want all the information he may have added to what we have here.’

  John nodded his agreement, ‘Okay.’ He switched on a tape recorder and opened the first dossier, ‘talk me through it as it happened.’

  Istanbul, September 25th.

  Abu Asifah put down the payphone with satisfaction. The message had been understood. He would now go to finalize the deal. He would go the long way round for safety. He flew first to Tunis, stayed overnight, changed names and documents and flew to Rome, where he stayed again. Using a third set of documents he flew from Rome to Istanbul. A taxi took him to the railway station. He walked through the concourse and booked a modest room in the station hotel. After dinner he took another taxi to the Balkirkoy State Hospital and stopped to rest at a bench outside the main entrance. The bench had one other occupant – George Liani. Abu Asifah sat at the opposite end of the bench. The two men did not look at each other.

  In low tones Abu Asifah outlined his requirements.

  ‘How much?’ George Liani went straight to the point.

  ‘The same as before, the same deal, half in advance, half on completion.’

  ‘What is the time-scale?’

  ‘As soon as possible.’

  ‘These things cannot be arranged overnight. I need time for planning and preparation.’

  ‘That is why the payments are so generous. The pressure must be maintained, we have the infidels on the run; soon they will be forced to exert pressure on Israel.’

  ‘What about materials, equipment, timing devices?’

  ‘We will supply your requirements.’

  ‘Inside Turkey?’

  ‘Yes, we will arrange for the materials to be brought in, in the usual way.’

  George Liani made a mental note to ask for more than he needed. He could find a few other uses for that sort of stuff and the extra funds would be a great boost to his cause, doubling what he had already received.

  ‘It’s possible, it could be done, but it won’t be easy. You understand that I’ll keep the first part of the moneys if, through no fault of my own, I am unable to complete the job within the time you require?’

  ‘Agreed.’ Abu Asifah didn’t have to find the money. It wasn’t his job. The two men parted without a handshake.

  Washington D.C. September 26th.

  The huge USAF Lockheed C5-A Galaxy was descending towards the Potomac River; inbound to land across the river from Bolling Air-force Base where Mike Edge’s destination, the Defense Intelligence Agency Analysis Centre was situated on Brookly Avenue.

  Mike tidied his notes and put them away. He had done just about all that he could do in preparation. He had a logical presentation ready to deliver. Questions he would deal with off the cuff. Mike looked out of the aircraft as it circled in to land. The whole of the District of Columbia lay spread out before him in the early morning light.

  Nestling in the great fork formed by the Potomac and Anacostia rivers was the very heart of American democratic government. He picked out the Capitol Building, the Washington Monument and the White House. This indeed was the centre of things.

  The aircraft landed and Mike said goodbye to the crew, who had looked after him well during the journey. An official car was waiting for him at the foot of the steps and took him across the river and on to the DIA building where he confirmed the arrangement to speak in two hours time. That done, the driver told him he was booked into the Sheraton Grand on Capitol Hill, and dropped him outside the main entrance on New Jersey Avenue with the promise to pick him up in an hour.

  Mike went inside and registered. The bellboy carried his overnight bag up to his room and got his tip. Mike gave him the chance to earn more. He asked the boy to go down and buy him some boxer shorts a clean shirt and a pair of chinos. He gave the boy the sizes and some cash. The unexpected delay had used up the limited change of clothes in his hand baggage. He stripped off his travel-stained clothes and got in the shower. The hot stinging jets of water washed away the weariness and brought him fully awake.

  There was a knock at the door and the bellboy came in with the items Mike had asked for. ‘You better keep the change,’ Mike told him, ‘I don’t have any pockets in this towel.’ The boy went off grinning. Mike quickly donned his new shirt and trousers; he took a tie from his overnight bag and slipped on his navy lightweight blazer. A quick shoeshine, using the kit provided in the room, and he was ready. Grabbing his briefcase he headed for the elevator. He walked through the foyer and out of the main entrance just as the official car drew up.

  The driver moved expertly through the traffic and in a short while drew up at the entrance to the DIA building. Mike went in and reported to the reception desk.

  ‘Ah, yes, Commander Edge, Mister Shultz is expecting you,’ the girl said. She dialed an internal number and announced Mike’s arrival. ‘He will be down to collect you in a moment, please take a seat over there.’ She pointed to some low modern leather covered sofas.

  Mike didn’t have long to wait. After a few moments a short powerfully built man, with a grey crew cut and horn-rimmed glasses; came hurrying over. He stuck his hand out.

  ‘Howard Shultz,’ he announced, ‘pleased to meet you. The President wants everyone concerned to see the evidence you’ve gotten hold of. Come with me.’ Hardly waiting to acknowledge Mike’s reply, he hurtled off.

  Howard Shultz was not deliberately rude; he did everything at 100 miles per hour and had the knack of getting everyone else moving too. By the time they reached the big lecture hall it was half full. As it filled up Howard Shultz showed Mike the equipment.

  ‘We have had the microfilms blown up and some transparencies made from the copies sent over via the diplomatic bag.’ He indicated a stack by the side of an overhead projector. ‘They arrived rather earlier than you did Commander Edge. We’ve also had some transparencies made of our own maps and charts of the area.’ He indicated a pile by another overhead projector. ‘Here are the controls to the projectors.’ He handed Mike a control unit and pointed to a bank of switches. ‘The rest of the switches control the lights. You’ll need this,’ he handed Mike a light pointer to use, ‘and your presentation will be recorded.’ He turned to the now full room. It was 09.00am precisely. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, Commander Mike Edge, a specialist on Middle Eastern affairs,’ he announced and went quickly to an empty seat; Mike was on his own.

  Tel Aviv, September 26th.


  During his return from Cyprus John considered the information he had received from Mike. This new Palestinian splinter group was a real nasty outfit that was for sure. He phoned Ben the moment he reached his office; both men needed to meet. It was easier for Ben to come in to see John; Ben had not been away from his desk and was on top of his workload. John was not; he was still plowing through a mountainous in-tray when Ben arrived. John offered Ben his usual form of hospitality, fresh Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee, and the two men sat down in the comfortable leather armchairs.

  John opened the discussion. ‘As you know, Mike Edge was caught up in the recent hijack, what you may not have realized is that Mike’s brother was on the same aircraft. He was shot dead, we assume because he was an American passport holder. Mike had to sit and watch it happen.’

  ‘Alan Edge, the passenger who was killed, I did wonder when I heard the name.’ Ben had gone very still, his features set like a bronze mask. ‘Go on.’

  John pointed to a folder on the coffee table between them. ‘Mike is a professional. There was nothing else he could do at the time so he gathered information with which to nail the bastards at a later date. There was a girl sitting next to him on the plane, seems she had a natural talent for drawing, some people are gifted that way.’

  Ben nodded. His features had not softened at all.

  John continued. ‘This girl took considerable risks; she did sketches of each of the hijackers when no one was looking. It seems that the heat in the plane was too much, even for them, and they didn’t bother with hoods or masks. Mike reckons they are very good likeness’s.’

  Ben nodded again. His organization had a rogue’s gallery second to none in the Middle East. It should be possible to match some of them to the sketches. John was continuing. ‘Mike made notes to go with the sketches, and he collected various items which carry fingerprints and DNA material.’

  Ben broke his silence. ‘He seems to have been very efficient considering the stress he must have been under.’

  ‘Bloody-minded would be a better term to use. Now he wants to go after them.’

  ‘That’s understandable, but is it a good idea to have your department involved in an operation like that?’ Ben asked.

  ‘No, and not my department, he wants to go after them personally.’ John shook his head. ‘Said he’d resign and go it alone if necessary; meant it, too.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Ben’s brain was racing behind his hard expression. ‘Have you got anything else on this group?’

  ‘Yes, we know that the same group was responsible for the attack on Heathrow a while ago. In fact I sent Mike over to London to find out what he could about the incident and those responsible for it. He interviewed the two captured terrorists; and to complete the connection they were the two released in Beirut the other day.’

  ‘Is Mike’s report in there?’ Ben asked, pointing to the file on the table.

  ‘Yes, it’s all there, and I’ve been in contact with the Greek authorities. They say their investigations are continuing. There seems to be a connection at that end too, an airline catering company employee and his family were blown to bits with a 12 bore shotgun. The man serviced flight OA 269 with meals prior to take-off; that has to be more than a coincidence.’

  ‘Lovely people the Blood of Shatila; the more I see of their handiwork the more I agree with Mike’s point of view.’

  ‘Well, yes, privately I might agree, but officially I can’t, and neither can you,’ John pointed out.

  ‘Maybe it would be a good idea to set Mike onto the trail in Greece,’ Ben suggested slowly, ‘divert him a little from the desire for personal revenge. He would be doing something relevant and God knows we need as much information as we can get on this bunch of thugs.’

  John looked at him sharply. ‘Yeah, that could be the way to go. We would need to find a pressing reason with which to persuade him, but that could just be the way to take some of the wind out of his sails.’

  Washington D.C. September 26th.

  ‘Good morning, ladies and gentlemen.’ Mike turned to face his audience.

  In the centre of the front row sat the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Behind them their respective assistant chiefs, together with the sober suits of Defense Department officials. A selection of specialist intelligence personnel both civilian and military sat behind them. A sea of medal ribbons went back as far as Mike could see. At the sides and at the rear were representatives of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, the National Security Council, the Department of Homeland Security, the Central Intelligence Agency and the Defense Intelligence Agency among others. Howard Shultz had been busy. Quite a few other meetings must have been cancelled at short notice.

  Mike took a deep breath and, taking a transparency from the top of the pile, placed it on the overhead projector, switched it on and dimmed the lights. Displayed on the large screen, on the wall of the room, was a map of the Persian Gulf and the surrounding countries. He put the red dot of the light pointer on the map of the Persian Gulf.

  ‘This is the richest oil bearing area on our planet,’ he said, and looked directly at his audience, ‘and it’s not Texas. Thirty seven percent of the world’s crude oil is produced in this region. Most of the countries of the region are stable, but to understand the current situation we have to go back and review the events leading up to the present time.

  For centuries the territory we know as Iraq was part of the Persian Empire, what we now know as Iran. With the vast oil reserves in the area the Iranians covet it and would love to have it back.

  More recently Iraq itself was divided. Prior to 1913, Kuwait was part of the Vilyat or administrative district of Basra, a part of Iraq. As a result of an agreement signed in 1913 between the British and the then rulers of Iraq, the Ottoman Turks, Kuwait became an autonomous district. During the war of 1914–1918, with the Turks allied to the Germans and building the Hejaz Railway, it was expedient for the British to block access to the head of the Persian Gulf. In order to do so, they recognized the Emirate and its’ 10,000 square mile land area as a completely independent nation. This division, which gave the British a valuable ally against the Turks and the Germans, was ratified by the Sykes–Picot agreement of 1916, which divided the former Ottoman Empire between Britain and France. This division was regarded as totally artificial by the Iraqis and has never been accepted by them. It caused great frustration by denying them a land area that had previously never had an independent existence and more importantly it deprived them of access to the waters of the Persian Gulf via the Shatt-al-Arab waterway.

  For thousands of years before that, the territory was disputed between Iraq and Iran. The whole of Iraq, or Mesopotamia, was part of Iran, part of the ancient Persian Empire, and the Iranian claim to this territory has never been settled to the satisfaction of either country. Eighteen separate treaties have attempted to settle the issue without success.

  Then came the discovery of oil. Particularly contentious is the giant Rumallah oilfield, which straddles Iraq’s border with Kuwait.’

  Mike paused to take a sip of water.

  ‘Now for the sake of brevity we jump a few decades. In nineteen eighty, the Iran-Iraq war began; an eight year war fought over this ancient territorial dispute. At that time Iraq held reserves of 30 billion dollars. In nineteen eighty eight, after the war, they had debts of 100 billion dollars, 30 billion of which was owed to Kuwait. The Iraqi position regarding that war was that they and they alone, stood between the Islamic Fundamentalism of Iran and the rest of the Arab world. For holding that position they claimed that the rest of the Arab world owed them. Saddam Hussein demanded repeatedly that their debts, particularly the debt to Kuwait should be written off, and that the Arab world should help exhausted Iraq back on to its’ feet. Instead of helping them the other Arab States stabbed them in the back. They broke OPEC agreements on production quotas, over produced, brought down the price of oil and reduced Iraq’s limited income to levels where they could not even pay off the interest on thei
r loans.’

  ‘The Kuwaitis were particularly blind and greedy. They held reserves of over 120 billion dollars overseas, which gave them an investment income of approximately 13 billion dollars a year, a sum that exceeded their oil revenue income, and that was for a population of eight hundred thousand nationals. And all this time no one, but no one, gave any thought as to why the Iranians had fought so long and so hard for eight years, no one gave any consideration as to why Iran had squandered so many lives, had exhausted itself over this hot and sandy wasteland.’

  Mike took another sip of water.

  ‘So, all of Iraq’s grievances over territory, borders, oil rights, the Rumallah oil-field production, sea access, who owed what to whom for the Iran-Iraq war and so on, were brought before the Gulf Co-operation Council. No one mentioned Iran. Iranian claims were ignored. Diplomatic missions, meetings between King Hussein of Jordan, King Fahd of Saudi Arabia, Yasser Arafat of the PLO, meetings in Jeddah; meetings in Baghdad, all came to nothing. Their situation desperate, the Iraqis issued repeated warnings, moved troops, made threats, all of which the Kuwaitis’ and the Saudis’ shrugged off as blackmail and bluff, and which the rest of the world ignored. The result was the invasion of Kuwait and the Gulf War. Kuwait was laid waste. So was Iraq; but Kuwait is being aided and rebuilt by the West, Iraq is not.

  Meanwhile Iran kept quietly producing oil and rebuilding its strength.’ Mike looked at his audience. ‘Don’t misunderstand me; I had no sympathy with the Iraqi regime. It was a brutal dictatorship and violence was its principal tool. The leader of that regime personally ordered the execution of twenty-one members of his first cabinet. He drew his pistol, in a cabinet meeting, and shot one of his officers in the head, killing him for daring to disagree with him. He forced the members of his cabinet to act as a firing squad executing political prisoners. This dangerous brutality ran in the family. His son beat one of his father’s bodyguards to death in front of guests. His cousin gassed seventy thousand Kurdish civilians. Yes, that regime was brutal. But the regime did have a grievance. They saw themselves and their country as seriously wronged, and that made them more dangerous, even more of a threat. The Iranian regime may not be as brutal but it is certainly as ruthless.’

  There was silence in the audience.

  Mike continued, ‘Iraq, as you know is in a terrible state, largely due to the after effects of the gulf war and the sectarian infighting between Sunni and Shia factions. As a consequence the people of Iraq have to endure terrible privations. Many are starving and there is a deliberate policy of interference from neighboring countries like Syria and Iran. Every day, ordinary people have to watch their children die because of shortages. According to World Health Organization figures five hundred thousand Iraqi children have died for want of basic medicines and adequate food. The numbers for Iran are not available but are thought to be not much better. Think about that for a moment. How would you feel?’

  Mike paused to put more slides into the order he required, then continued.

  ‘The rulers of Iran now see their ancient enemy in a seriously weakened state. They see the oil rich lands that for so many thousands of years were their lands as being poorly defended; a situation that may not occur again in the foreseeable future. They see a possible opportunity to regain lands that historically were theirs.’

  Mike took another sip of water.

  ‘How can Iran exploit this situation? They have to strike in a way that cannot be stopped. They have to reach a position of dominance that cannot be challenged. They have to do it before the West can react. They have to use a method of attack that is unstoppable. They have to make an unexpected pre-emptive strike. Achieve a fait accompli.’

  Mike put a new slide on the projector.

  ‘Of the nine United Nations Security Council resolutions enacted against Iraq, none were complied with in their entirety. United Nations Security Council Resolution 687 in particular demanded that Iraq provide declarations on all aspects of its Weapons of Mass Destruction program fifteen days after the Security Council enacted the resolution in nineteen ninety one. Eleven years later gaps and inconsistencies remain in all of Iraq’s declarations. Only when incontrovertible direct evidence came to light did Iraq modify its declarations.’

  ‘This is a list of thousands of tonnes of chemicals and materials supplied to Iraq prior to the Gulf War. Western scientists have evaluated these chemicals and materials. Some are the materials needed for the production of the nerve gas VX. Others are for the culture of biological agents based on a form of smallpox enhanced from thirty-five percent mortality rate to one hundred percent mortality rate, and of botulism and anthrax derivatives.’ ‘These chemicals were not purchased in research quantities but in industrial quantities, and indicate gas and virus production on a commercial scale. Less than forty percent of this material was accounted for by the UN weapons inspectorate, so given the remaining sixty percent we are looking at potential gas production in tens of metric tonnes, and germ production on the scale of units of metric tonnes. Where did this materiel go? The Iraqi Air force planes went to Iran. Did the means of production for Biological Weapons end up in the same place? The germ warfare material is easily stored; it is freeze-dried using the same process as for instant coffee.’

  Mike selected a slide from the other heap and placed it on the second overhead projector. It was another map, one of those on the microfilm he had received from Ben Levy. The quality was not quite so good but the symbols stood out clearly.

  Mike continued, pointing at the symbols on the map,

  ‘There have been high level meetings recently between Iran and Syria. These symbols represent desert airfields. You will remember that before operation Desert Storm began, the Iraqi leadership ordered the dispersal of their best aircraft and the withdrawal of their best troops to places of relative safety. They even flew their crack squadrons of aircraft to the territory of their old enemies Iran. Why?’ Did the production materials for weapons of mass destruction go to their old enemies too?

  ‘Was the Iraqi invasion of Kuwait viewed by Iran as an experiment, albeit an experiment on a grand scale? A reconnaissance on a scale we could not countenance and therefore did not see it the same way as the Iranians? Remember, approximately sixty percent of the Iraqi front line troops were Shiites, all were badly led and poorly trained; in fact their disposable divisions. The Republican Guards, their best equipped and best trained troops never fought. In fact were kept well away from the fighting. Why?’

  ‘Was the gassing of 70,000 Kurdish civilians an experiment for future attacks on neighboring countries? Could this be an experiment which Iran might copy or benefit from?’

  ‘Iraq had, prior to the Gulf War, some three hundred aircraft, mainly Russian MIG 29 Fulcrums and MIG 31 Foxhounds. All were armed with 30mm cannon, four AA10 Alamo A/C semi-active radar-guided missiles, two Alamo B Infra-Red homing medium range missiles and two AA11 Archer close combat Anti aircraft missiles. Alternatively, and most importantly, they could carry a large selection of ground attack weapons pods on six wing stations. These are the aircraft that were dispersed to neutral countries like Iran and maybe Syria prior to hostilities commencing. Operation Desert Fox did not target these aircraft. Iran we know still has them. Also in recent weeks you will have seen evidence of Iranian progress in their missile program. Even a small force of operational modest range missiles armed with chemical, biological or dirty nuclear warheads would pose a serious threat to neighboring countries and to US forces in the region.’

  Mike paused for another sip of water.

  ‘Here is another question. Why do countries, with enormous and developed reserves of oil and natural gas, well within the worlds’ top ten producers, want or need nuclear powered reactors? Iran has the Bushehr 1 reactor and another at Darkhovin, together with three known uranium enrichment plants. Other, worrying issues are the IAEA reports of research experiments geared to the development of a nuclear weapons capability. Does the Iranian nuclear research
centre have hidden buildings and rooms forbidden to the nuclear inspectorate as they were in Iraq?’

  Mike’s audience shifted uneasily.

  ‘We are aware, from intelligence sources, of leakage of Russian rocket and nuclear technology to Iran; given recent conditions within the Russian federation, with tens of thousands of scientists and technicians redundant and unpaid, that was bound to happen. Gentlemen, make no mistake, these regimes have the means to deliver chemical, biological and nuclear weapons outside their own borders. From the dispositions shown here they could invade Kuwait, Northern Saudi Arabia and attack Israel. With the possible involvement of Syria the threat to Israel is even greater. This alliance knows from the Gulf War exactly how long it takes the West to react. These documents are the plans for a sneak attack. The combined use of VX nerve gas, enhanced smallpox and an unstable anthrax derivative would decimate and kill whole populations; men, women and children. The advantage from an alliance’s point of view is that the attacked countries and their infrastructures remain intact. There would be minor damage from road accidents, plant breakdown from lack of supervision and control, but nowhere near the damage that would result from a shooting war. In two to three weeks the viruses would break down and become harmless; the VX nerve gas would disperse to safe levels, and the attacked countries would be wide open for the aggressors to walk in.’

  Mike paused again, took a sip of water, and put another slide on the projector.

  ‘This map shows the forming up areas, the start line and the dispositions of all the regiments that are to take part in the clean up. They do not begin to move until two days after the main attack, that is the air attack, has succeeded.’

  He paused for a few moments to allow his audience to absorb the information on the Iranian map.

  ‘Kuwait has no defense against the forces which could be unleashed against it, and Saudi-Arabia hasn’t either. Israel would struggle to survive.’

  Mike changed the map on the overhead projector for one showing the South coast of the Persian Gulf. He ran the red dot of his pointer along the coast.

  ‘First Kuwait, second, Saudi-Arabia, then Qatar. A causeway joins the stretch of water between the mainland and the island of Bahrain. It too would fall, and the United Arab Emirates would be next.’ Again Mike paused to allow time for his words to be digested.

  ‘A domino effect, gentlemen, such as was feared in Southeast Asia, but in a region of the world with far greater consequences for the nations of the West. Another war in this region would force oil prices through the roof and do untold damage to the world economy, particularly to the manufacturing based economies and to those countries that are dependent on oil imports.

  Afterwards, if this invasion is allowed to happen, a very large proportion of the world’s oil will be under the control of the Ayatollahs, men who would not hesitate to use such control to dictate terms to the Western world. That then is the general situation, are there any questions so far?’

  An air force general in the second row stood and said, ‘We have the no fly zones implemented, and actively patrol them. How could they launch an air attack from the South?’

  Mike nodded. ‘Iraq would not be the immediate target. Our no fly zones cover only the national territories of Iraq and Kuwait. Iran sits across the Persian Gulf from Northern Saudi Arabia. The first strike would come from across the sea, across the Gulf in effect. Very quickly they would gain control of the whole of the Persian Gulf up to and possibly including the vital shipping lanes of the Gulf of Hormuz. The annexation of Iraq comes later. Strikes from Syria could go west, fly down the Mediterranean and come at Israel from the sea.’

  The air-force general nodded and sat down.

  ‘Consider also this fact,’ Mike continued, ‘Israel elected as Prime Minister a man so hated in the Arab world that the entire Arab world could unite against Israel in protest. Remember that the unresolved Palestinian problem is in the forefront of the minds of all Arabs. Give any Muslim nation a common cause and the danger is that they will forget their national disputes and unite against the Infidel.’

  Mike put another slide on the overhead projector. ‘It is not only the world’s largest oil reserves Iran is after. There is further justification for an invasion. This document is a propaganda statement in which the Iranian fundamentalist regime claims that the custody of the most Holy Shrines in the Muslim world, namely those in Mecca and Medina, and the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem, are defiled by corrupt and unworthy rulers. They intend to proclaim a “Jihad”, a “Holy War”, to liberate these shrines for the true believers, and, in so doing, gain control of them for themselves. This is a very real issue to devout Muslims. It would cause all sorts of changes of alliance. It would mean that this action would receive approval from countries in the Arab world that would condemn an act of aggression for mere greed - which of course is the true reason for planning such an attack. It is very cunning. By this plan they could be seen as the protector of the true faith, gain control of the oil reserves in the Persian Gulf region, and give their people a big increase in their living standards in order to stay in power. You realize of course, that if Iran’s plans are to be stopped, it is the West who will have to do it. Effectively that means us. America.’

  There was a long silence.

  Howard Shultz broke it.

  ‘Do you have any solutions to suggest, Commander Edge?’

  Mike picked up his notes. ‘These are my considered recommendations,’ he said. He began to explain his thoughts and opinions. He lectured on for over an hour. When he had finished talking he turned the lights up. He asked for questions, and another hour was spent in lively debate.

  When there were no more questions Howard Shultz got up from his seat and joined him.

  ‘Thank you, Commander Edge, you have been most lucid in your briefing, we all now have a much better understanding of the problems which lie ahead. Your difficult trip has been most worthwhile. We, for our part, must now busy ourselves with contingencies to cope with this situation. I hope you will not think us rude and inhospitable, but we have much to do and will have to leave you to your own devices.’

  ‘That’s quite all right,’ Mike replied, ‘A little time to myself after the last few days will be very welcome.’

  ‘Yes, I’m sure it will; come, I’ll show you out and get a car to take you back to your hotel.’

  Tel Aviv, September 26th.

  Standing up, John picked up the file and carried it over to a small conference table in the corner of the office. Ben followed, and taking a chair each they sat down to go through the contents together. John opened the file and shoved it in front of Ben. Abu Asifah’s likeness stared up at him. Ben nodded his head, ‘I think we have a file on this one.’ One by one they went through them. There were eight in all; Ben was negative about five of them, the other two he was pretty sure about. ‘These ring alarm bells, but that’s not to say we have anything on them, I’ll have to get my records people on to it. He looked disgruntled.

  John went over to fetch two more coffees, it was a calculated move; he wanted Ben to complete his thought processes. Placing the two coffees on the table he sat down again. He looked directly at Ben. ‘Got anything to add?’ he asked bluntly.

  Ben hesitated before replying. ‘I’m pretty sure about three of these individuals in Mike’s dossiers, but I may also have a contact in this splinter group.’

  John looked sharply at him. ‘In The Blood of Shatila?’

  ‘Yes; this contact is corrupt,’ Ben said slowly, ‘corrupt and greedy, both for money and for power.’

  ‘Sounds like he could be turned?’

  ‘Possibly, but he’s treacherous; he would have to be handled very carefully.’

  ‘What does he want?’

  He wants to have clout, recognition, notoriety, call it what you will, he wants to be number one, the guy who gets on TV. He wants to be the recognized leader, the guy who hobnobs with politicians in front of the world’s press; that’s wha
t he wants; that and enough money to make him rich.’

  ‘What’s stopping him getting the top job for himself?’

  Ben tapped the top file, Abu Asifah’s file; ‘This guy - and half a dozen thugs.’

  John looked thoughtful; ‘Seems to me your contact could use a little help.’

  ‘Ben looked at him. ‘It wouldn’t be easy, we would have to get the lot in one go. We think their base is pretty formidable. Well guarded, too.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘Well, we’re pretty sure they’re in Muslim West Beirut as you would expect, but in the southern part where the Hezbollah influence is strongest.’

  John nodded, ‘That would make sense.’

  Ben went on. ‘There is an underground car park and service complex below one of the damaged apartment buildings. It’s very heavily guarded and there seems to have been a lot of coming and going which roughly coincided with the recent attacks.’

  ‘Number of guards?’

  ‘Don’t know, but we think it’s a major headquarters.’

  ‘Well we need to get more information; we need to be able to tie the individuals in these dossiers to the group in Beirut. Their last area of activity was in Athens, I’ll see if I can get Mike to go there.’

  ‘Okay,’ Ben agreed, ‘and I’ll do some thinking about how to crack the Beirut nut. One thing’s for sure, sledge hammers seem to be out.’

  Over Southern England, September 26th.

  ‘Running in!’ The pilot’s warning sounded in the helmet earphones.

  ‘Okay.’ Jim Savage got a firm grip, stepped out into the 80-mph slipstream, and took up the rear floater position trailing one leg. Twelve thousand feet below him between his feet was the patchwork quilt of the English countryside, a long, long way down.

  Another member of the drop team quickly took up the forward floater position and Andrew Cunningham took the centre position. All three were standing on the step and hanging on to the outside of the plane. The rest of the team crowded into the doorway of the nine-seat Islander aircraft.

  ‘READY!’ Andy rapped out the commands. ‘SET!’ Everyone took a deep breath.

  ‘GO!’ All nine members of the drop team shouted the action word together and, as one, leapt clear of the aircraft.

  There was a rush of wind, noise, a change of temperature and the pressure of air roaring over Jim’s body. No sense of falling at all.

  As one of the base formation Jim had already got a firm grip on the two either side of him. The rest of the team, feeling the wind and changing their body attitude by moving their arms and legs as wings and rudders, began to cruise in to join the formation. Then the whole formation was swooping through the sky at an exhilarating 140 miles per hour, adrenaline pumping round their systems, senses and awareness heightened to the absolute maximum, huge grins of delight on every face. The formation completed, Andy gave a nod, and the formation broke, each individual exerting total concentration to keep close and maneuver to the second formation; that achieved they broke again. The third formation was harder; it took more time for everyone to link up. Jim checked his altimeter and looked up. Andy had done the same, 4,500 feet. Not enough altitude for another formation; moments later Jim’s Paralert altimeter began beeping in his ear as he passed through the 3,500 foot setting.

  Andy gave a hand signal. All the team members turned through 180 degrees pushed out their legs pulled their arms back and tracked away into clear space.

  Jim checked around and made certain he was well clear. He signaled his intent to open his main canopy and released the small pilot ’chute. There was a small jerk as it deployed then, a much larger jerk as he was pulled up by the deployment of the main ’chute. The roar of the wind stopped, all was calm and still. The multi-colored rectangle of Jim’s Ram Air sports parachute hung in the air above him. He began to fly his ’chute and moved carefully closer to Andrew Cunningham for a canopy hook-up. He grabbed hold and moved down the lines until he could hook his feet in Andy’s harness. More of the team moved in, each one joining the stack as they spiraled down to the marker on the airfield they had taken off from thirty minutes before. Then the stack pilot, the top-most member of the stack, broke away, and one by one each of the team broke off also, and spiraled in to touch down. Jim hit the marker dead centre, landing gently on tiptoe and collapsing his ’chute from a standing position. They all grinned at each other, wanting nothing in the world so much as to go back up and do it all over again.

  Andy walked over to Jim. ‘The view’s better during daylight,’ he said, grinning, ‘you enjoyed it, I can tell.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jim grinned back, ‘and it’s safer landing on the ground than in the sea.’

  Washington D.C. September 26th.

  Mike Edge felt drained. He sat back in the comfort of the official car on the way back to his hotel. Unbidden, his thoughts began to go back over the events of the past few days and the tasks he now had to do. He needed to sort out the arrangements for his brother’s funeral and get that ordeal behind him. Only then could he give his full attention to tracking down those responsible for Alan’s murder. The car dropped him back at the Sheraton Grand. Thanking the driver Mike went in, picked up his key, went directly to his room and rang John Henderson in Tel Aviv. The phone was answered immediately by John Henderson’s secretary Mary.

  ‘Mike, how are you?’

  ‘I’m okay.’

  ‘I’ve been worried sick about you; that ogre we work for should have given you some time off after your dreadful experience on that aircraft.’

  ‘He couldn’t,’ Mike said quickly, ‘it sure would’ve been welcome, but John was right, I had to complete the job at this end. It was too important, you know it was.’

  Hmmm, I’m not convinced, he’s a slave driver.’

  ‘Yeah well you’re some slave,’ Mike laughed, ‘is he in?’

  ‘Yeah, but only just, hold on, I’ll put you through before he escapes.’

  John Henderson came straight to the point. ‘Hi, Mike, how did the briefing go?’

  ‘Very well John, no questions I couldn’t answer. The people here have gone off to work out their strategy.’

  ‘Great, good job, you’ve gotten them off my back.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure glad about that,’ Mike replied, ‘guess you have other things to deal with.’

  ‘You bet,’ John said, with feeling.

  What arrangements have been made regarding my brother?’

  ‘Yeah, right, our friends in Beirut are shipping Alan home. They have notified his company in the first instance, as you, his next of kin, were not available. The company gave the consular people the name of a law practice in San Francisco. I have it here for you.’ He gave Mike the name; Bloom & Co.

  The name was familiar to Mike; Alan had stayed with the same law practice that the family had used for their private business. John continued, ‘Contact the law firm as soon as you can, they need to talk to you as the next of kin.’

  ‘Okay, anything else?’

  ‘Yeah, I spoke to a mutual friend; he thinks we ought to meet when you get back. The hijacking was organized in Athens; all sorts of clues are beginning to surface.’

  ‘Good, I’ll see you in a week or so, ’bye.’ Mike rang off, a grim smile of satisfaction on his face. Ben and John should have a lot of information available by then.