To the Death

They had trotted out all the predictable platitudes: Just who does this admiral think he is? Why does a modern USA require this aged Cold Warrior? Is Arnold Morgan leading us back to gunboat diplomacy? Just how dangerous is this ex-nuclear submarine commander? President Bedford must explain to the American people. If Arnold Morgan wants this much influence, he should run for office.

The television networks seized upon the theme. Political “forums” were established specially to wreck the admiral’s reputation. And very quickly, the Arab al Jazeera television station leaped onto the bandwagon with such “documentaries” as The Terrorist-Buster in the White House—an in-depth look at President Bedford’s Hard Man.

General Rashood was as utterly disinterested in this outpouring of indignation in the USA as Admiral Morgan was himself, regarding all media journalists as a bunch of know-nothing, half-educated, hysterical charlatans. Or worse.

What concerned the general was the intelligence between the lines: that Admiral Morgan had indeed been the principal force that sent three of the top Hamas field officers to Guantánamo Bay, probably for the rest of their lives. That there was a definite chance that the suicide Boeing 737, Flight TBA 62, going for the Capitol building, had been shot down by the U.S. military on specific orders from Admiral Morgan.

In General Rashood’s opinion, the jihadists were fighting a war against one man, and losing it. Time and again. Militarily, there was only one option. And he would carry out that option himself. They now had a time, a place, and the target. All that remained was to enter England in a thoroughly clandestine way.

Colonel Hassad Abdullah interrupted to report that the Iranian Navy had one of their Russian-built Kilo-class diesel-electric submarines in the Mediterranean, patrolling somewhere off Lebanon. It had been refueled at the north end of the Suez Canal, and its task was, essentially, to stand by to help the holy warriors of Hezbollah should they require it. The Iranians, however, would be only too delighted to help General Rashood on his mission.

This was the best possible news, because without that submarine, it would be nearly impossible to land General Rashood in the operations area. Even now, time was extremely tight. Southern Ireland was the obvious landfall for anywhere in Great Britain, although the distance was somewhat daunting. From Lebanon, it was approximately 3,900 miles by sea, straight through the Med to the Strait of Gibraltar, a distance of 2,500 miles, then 1,400 more north across the Bay of Biscay to the open Atlantic and on to the coast of County Cork.

The 3,000-ton Kilo could probably make twelve knots all the way. But she would have to run at periscope depth, snorkeling throughout the journey, to keep her massive batteries charged. That would be noisy, but unavoidable, because the diesel generators, running hard, needed air.

Her greatest strength, her stealth, would thus be compromised. Because, running deep and slow, she was a deadly quiet underwater combatant, totally silent under five knots. Undetectable, with a 3,650-horsepower electronic running capacity on a brilliantly engineered single shaft. But for this mission, speed was the deciding factor, the intention being to land Ravi somewhere on the south coast of the Irish republic on the weekend of Saturday, July 14.

From there he must make his way to Dublin, and then to England, on one of the busy ferry routes, arriving at one of the less stringently patrolled terminals. But first there was a question of arming him.

And even at the ferry ports, there was no possibility that Hamas would take the risk of sending someone through with a sniper rifle. That was the way to a British prison and certain exposure. If they caught him, the Brits would probably hang Ravi for high treason against the state. He had, after all, shot two SAS men in cold blood. His own people. In a sense.

No, he must collect his weapon in England. Collect it, use it. And somehow leave without it. There was no other course of action open to him. The details would be handed over to the Syrian embassy in London, and perhaps the rifle could be handmade in time for Ravi’s arrival.

Time, once more, would probably be pressing. So the rifle would need to be constructed in London, since there would be so little time for the ace terrorist to be running around all over England to collect and test it. The arrival of Admiral and Mrs. Morgan was cast in stone. The early morning of Tuesday, July 31. The Ritz Hotel, on Piccadilly.