Lethal Trajectories - Michael Conley [6]
Riyadh, Saudi Arabia
13 September 2017
Prince Mustafa ibn Abdul-Aziz was in a foul mood as he prepared for a clandestine meeting with his coconspirators. The malfunctioning air-conditioning unit did little to improve his disposition as he waited for his team to arrive, but that was but one price to be paid for anonymity.
For the past two years, his small but powerful group had met in this nondescript office in south Riyadh to plot the overthrow of the royal Saudi government. His eclectic team was united by a common hatred of the decadent Western values inundating their society, the growth of the apostate Shiite movement in the Middle East, and the royal government’s benign neglect and unwillingness to confront the issues. These threats were a direct assault on the teachings of Allah, and Mustafa would not rest until the infidels were eradicated from his country, the region, and eventually the world.
Mustafa ibn Abdul-Aziz was a study in contradictions. At age forty, he had a muscular body on a six-foot frame but loathed the idea of working out or pampering himself with self-indulgences. He had the square-jawed good looks of a young Omar Sharif but spent little time in front of the mirror. Although a member of the monarchy by virtue of his place in the royal lineage of King Abdul Aziz ibn Saud, he despised everything about the monarchy. He had the fabulous wealth and power afforded the ruling members of the Council of Ministers, but he detested the sinful way in which the oil-driven economy picked away at the proper ways of Islamic society.
Still, he maintained a veneer of good cheer and impeccable manners that fooled all but a few in his inner circle. Mustafa hated Zionism and the corrupt Western culture that contaminated mankind. There was no other way but that of the Monotheism he faithfully practiced as a cornerstone of his daily life. There was comfort in the well-structured Islamic fundamentalism outlined in shari’a law, and he longed for the day it would be universally practiced and enforced as it was meant to be.
His coconspirators shared his driving passions, and together they planned for the ultimate jihad. The planning was all but done, and they were now only waiting for the right set of circumstances to come about. They were all on edge, and Mustafa, an impatient and bitter man, was a time bomb ready to explode.
4
Beijing, China
14 September 2017
It was not unusual for the most powerful man in China, Chairman Lin Cheng, to be working at his desk in the Zhongnanhai—China’s equivalent of the White House—into the wee hours of the morning. In fact, it was the rule as he prepared for the weekly Politburo Standing Committee meeting scheduled for 8:30 on Thursday mornings.
Lin Cheng’s nocturnal habits were legendary, so it came as no surprise to the duty officer in charge of the People’s Liberation Army/Navy night watch that he was able to get through to Lin Cheng immediately.
“Chairman Lin Cheng,” the PLAN watch officer reported nervously, “I regret to, ah, inform you, sir, that a naval engagement with Japan occurred less than an hour ago, resulting in the loss of the Dragon II oil platform at Chunxiao.”
“Yes, Admiral, please give me all the details,” Lin Cheng responded in a dispassionate voice. Though outwardly calm, he was angry to hear that this marquee symbol of China’s technological prowess had been destroyed—not to mention the delay in access to the precious oil and natural gas that it was designed to extract.
The admiral gave a detailed report of the engagement, noting losses incurred and current disposition of forces in the area. “Sir,” he said, sounding more confident, “we have sufficient firepower in that area to handle anything the Japanese can throw at us.”
“Thank you, Admiral, for your report. This was an unprovoked attack, and clearly our navy responded in an exemplary manner. Please pass that on.”
“Yes, sir, and thank you, Chairman Lin,” said the admiral, plainly relieved.
“Let me be clear, Admiral, that you are not to pursue offensive actions against the Japanese