attack the Americans?’
‘Yes.’
The Saudi nodded. It was clear that he had reservations, though it was not his way to interfere directly. He ruled largely by persuasion and was, in Ali’s experience, a very logical man, as well as a religious one.
‘The Yemenis were able to contribute the vessel with their missile,’ said the Saudi.
‘A rotting tub with a single missile that could not be aimed properly,’ said Ali. ‘But we made use of it. We drew the American toward us as a diversion, and nearly succeeded in striking them. They are angry.’ He smiled faintly.
‘Does their anger frighten you?’
‘No. I welcome it.’
‘You wish to avenge your son?’
‘I do.’
‘You should not.’
The words surprised him.
‘Your son has found his place in heaven,’ the Saudi explained. ‘You have no need for revenge in jihad. You must fight for God’s agenda, not your own. Only when you are truly pure will you succeed.’
The Saudi was prone to long speeches extolling the virtues of the righteous war and the need for God’s soldiers to be pure. Ali was not in the mood for such a speech. He lived not in the world of ideals, but in the real world, and he had just lost his son.
‘I fight as I am,’ he said, sitting in his chair.
‘And we are all the better for it. Tell me, if you had your wish, what would it be?’
‘What would I wish for? My son back beside me.’
‘And?’
‘Many things. More weapons, fuel for my ships. Better communications. Missiles that can be fired at long range. More ships.’
‘Airplanes?’
Ali frowned. The Ethiopians had promised several times to send aircraft to his aid, as had Yemen and Sudan. Supposedly they had taken off on missions several times in the past week, but if so, Ali hadn’t seen the proof.
‘I don’t need airplanes,’ he said.
‘Not even against the American ship?’
‘They shouldn’t even attempt that. It could easily shoot them down. However –’ Ali pitched his body forward. ‘The American Navy sometimes uses unarmed radar and electronics aircraft called Orions. Those would be easy targets for a fighter. There must be one operating somewhere in the Gulf of Aden, perhaps disguised as a civilian. If that were shot down, that would help me.’
The Saudi nodded thoughtfully.
‘I can tell them the sort of radar signals to look for,’ said Ali. ‘I will have a message delivered to the embassy.’
‘Deliver it to Yemen as well.’
The air force in his native land was staffed entirely by cowards who would never act, but Ali told the Saudi he would do so before his first meal.
‘Other ships will join you within a few days. Large, powerful ships that you can use. A vessel from Oman,’ added the Saudi.
‘Oman? From the corrupted government?’
‘Brothers there are active. Details will be provided in the usual way.’
‘A missile boat would be very useful.’ Ali ran his hand over his chin. He needed fuel, food – those were the problems of a commander, more difficult to solve than the tactics of warfare.
‘If you had everything you wished for,’ said the Saudi, ‘what would you do?’
‘I would sink the enemy’s ships.’
‘The one that killed your son?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that the limit of your ambition?’
‘I would sink every ship that I could find,’ said Ali. ‘I would continue to obtain the tribute that is God’s so we could fight the only war. I would show the West that they are not the rulers of the world.’
The Saudi stared at him. His eyes were the eyes of a viper, black diamonds that missed nothing.
‘What would you do with a submarine?’ said Osama.
‘A submarine?’ Had anyone else made this suggestion, Ali would have thought it a joke – but the Saudi did not joke. ‘A submarine would be very useful.’
‘Friends in Libya who agree with our aim have volunteered to join you. The vessel has been sailing for many days. It had to go around Africa. We have been trying to get word to you in a way that the Americans and Jews could not intercept. Finally, I decided I must come myself.’
The Saudi told Ali that the submarine would arrive at a point ten miles due north of Boosaaso and surface at ten minutes past midnight on the morning of November 8. If no contact was made, he would surface the next night, and the next.
‘They will surface every night to look for you. They will do so until they run out of fuel and food. If you do not come, they will destroy the first American warship they see. And then the next, and so on, until they have no more weapons to fire. Then they will crash their ship into the enemy, and commit their souls to Allah.’
‘We will meet him,’ said Ali. He was somewhat skeptical at the mention of Libya. The Libyan Navy had several submarines, all Russian vessels that the Italian navy had tracked when they came out of port. These were Project 641 and 641B ships, members of the Foxtrot and Tango class, large, oceangoing submarines. Not quite as quiet as the Kilo class of diesel-powered export submarines, they were still potent ships – but only if properly maintained and manned. In his experience, the Libyan vessels were neither.
‘There is one other matter of interest,’ said the Saudi.
Ali understood that this was meant to be the condition for the largesse Osama had brought. He listened without emotion as the Saudi told him that God’s plans were immense, and the war against Satan immeasurable from a human perspective. Personal feelings could have no place in it. Only after this lengthy preface did he get to the heart of the matter:
‘Friends of ours have learned that a British aircraft carrier named the Ark Royal is due to sail through the Suez Canal at the beginning of next week. Have you heard of it?’
‘Of course. It’s the pride of their fleet.’
‘If the ship were to be sunk, it would be a major blow to the West. The British could not afford to replace her. Others would see what happens to those who work closely with the devil. The blow would be much mightier than any attack on a smaller ship, however great the lesser strike would be.’
‘There will be many protections in place,’ said Ali. It was clear that the Saudi knew nothing about sea
