Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [146]
“Yes, King Mustafa, you can rely on me to provide the bombs you will need.”
“Thank you, General. I knew I could count on you. Now, we have a more immediate problem on our hands. Prince Hahad,” Mustafa said, glaring at the prince, “I’m not happy to see that your hit teams have failed again to take out Khalid.”
“Nor am I, King Mustafa,” Hahad responded defensively, “we wounded him, and a number of his security forces paid the ultimate price to protect him, but he got away. It’s only a matter of time before …”
“See that you don’t miss next time,” Mustafa said sharply, cutting off Hahad in mid-sentence.
“Mullah al-Hazari, how are our purification efforts coming along?”
“Quite well, King Mustafa. The renewed enforcement of shari’a law has finally registered with the people, and we’re noticing marked improvements in their behavior.”
“Well done, my faithful friend,” said Mustafa with genuine affection. But all softness fell away as he continued. “My brothers, we are now ready to move into the next phase. Within forty-eight hours I expect our protectorate arrangement with Kuwait, Qatar, and the UAE will be established. I also want at least two dirty bombs detonated on Israeli territory within the week. Destiny is in our hands. Take it, my brothers!”
Dhahran Air Base
18 October 2017
The sight and sound of two F-15 fighter bombers making a low-level pass over headquarters momentarily preempted the troubles nagging at General Ali Jabar. With their passing, however, his thoughts returned to his problem. How could I have been so stupid as to promise King Mustafa a supply of dirty bombs I do not have? I have enough radioactive material for the two Israeli-bound bombs, but that’s it.
A knock on the door interrupted his anxious deliberations. “Enter!” he commanded, knowing it would be Major General Aabid ibn Al Mishari, one of his most able officers. Al Mishari stepped through the door and saluted, but the general ignored him for a moment to avoid appearing overeager to see him.
Finally, he said, irritably, “Sit down, and I will tell you why I’ve ordered you to be here.” He poured himself a drink of cold water, but offered none to his subordinate.
“Yesterday I had an important meeting with King Mustafa,” Ali Jabar continued, reveling in his close connection with the king, “and there is a matter we must discuss.”
Al Mishari nodded but said nothing.
“As you know, I am privy to this kingdom’s every secret. The king has entrusted to me control of our nuclear program, including our dirty bombs, and I alone make all the critical decisions in this area. Unfortunately, I am sometimes challenged to meet all the requests made of me. I will, for instance, need two dirty bombs for detonation in Israel next week. I can handle that, but it will be a challenge to make more dirty bombs after that. This is where you come in, Al Mishari.”
Pulling a map out of his drawer, he said, “Look at this, Al Mishari. This top secret map contains the locations of all of our emplaced dirty bombs, as well as their detonation codes and frequencies. You are one of only four people in the kingdom to see this entire map.” Confident that Al Mishari was suitably impressed, he launched into a lengthy dissertation on Saudi Arabia’s classified nuclear program. He was proud of the program’s success and allowed himself to ramble, even though something in the back of his head suggested that Al Mishari did not, perhaps, have a demonstrable need to know. But he needed someone loyal, and surely he could trust Al Mishari to back him up … and take the fall if necessary.
“This is what I want you to do, Al Mishari. You will make a tour of all dirty-bomb emplacements, with my authorization, under the auspices of inspecting them. I want you to determine whether or not we can borrow radioactive material from some of those sites to build the new bombs we’ll undoubtedly need to make. You will then report back to me, but no one must know about this. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir! I will depart