by Walt Gragg
“But the horror of what you were doing. The terror you put people through.”
“Terror’s one of Allah’s warriors’ greatest weapons. Terror’s always been a part of any holy war.”
“So after the death of your wife and son it took nearly twenty years, but eventually your army defeated the Algerian military. Reporters who covered your triumphant arrival in Algiers said justice for the losers was swift and brutal. From what I’ve heard, beheadings in Algiers’s central square became a daily occurrence. They said the streets ran red with blood.”
“Justice is always swift for the losers, Ms. Wells. And life itself is brutal. You need to understand, such bloodshed could have been avoided if only the military had accepted the people’s will and turned the government over to the appointed Islamic officials.”
“Mr. Mourad, there’s a personal question which bothered me during every minute of the long, difficult ride from Algiers. If you’re the ruler of the majority of Arab North Africa, why do you live way up here in the mountains so far from everything? It’s just so desolate. Why don’t you live in Algiers?”
“Because I learned long ago that I don’t care for cities. The desert’s always been my home and this is where I wish to be. The clerics in Algiers can manage the day-to-day affairs of our federation. And we’re in constant contact on those issues needing my personal attention.”
“Okay, so it’s many years after your wife’s death, and you’ve conquered Algeria. Is it at that point you began calling yourself the Prophet?”
He stared at her with a dazed look upon his face. His surprise was evident in his answer.
“Prophet? I’m no prophet. Where did you get such an idea?”
“But that’s what everyone in the Western press has called you for years.”
“Then the Western press is mistaken. I’m no prophet. For the followers of Islam, the last true Prophet lived fifteen hundred years ago. He was the final messenger. There’ll never be another.”
“But you said earlier you were the Chosen One.”
“I’m the Mahdi. But that doesn’t make me a prophet. I’m the one who Allah, in his infinite wisdom, has selected to destroy the nonbelievers. I’m the one the prophecy foretold would arrive to lead Islam in its conquest of the world and to prepare the pious for the end of time.”
“When you use the term ‘nonbelievers,’ who exactly are you talking about?”
“All those who don’t worship the one true God.”
“So when you say you’ll destroy all nonbelievers, am I correct in my understanding of what that means? Since we worship the same God, the term ‘nonbelievers’ doesn’t include Christians?”
“No, Miss Wells. Christians are also considered nonbelievers by those who love the sacred teachings of the Quran.”
“But from what you just said, how can that be? We also worship the same God. The God Islam worships.”
“But Christians don’t recognize Allah’s Prophet Muhammad as their own. And they fail to heed the righteous tenets of the Quran. By doing so they’ve guaranteed their destruction at the hands of the faithful. It’s not just Christians, Miss Wells. Unbelievers also include all non-Islamic religions and those Arabs whose belief in Islam isn’t as it should be.”
“So as the Chosen One, you believe one of your roles is to destroy Arab countries who don’t conform to your tenets?”
“That would be correct.”
“Which nations are those?”
“Egypt, Morocco, Jordan, Saudi Arabia, Kuwait, to name a few. Their leaders must change their ways and heed the sacred words before it’s too late. Islam cannot begin its conquest of the outside world until the Middle East is united under our banner.”
“Is that the reason you conquered Libya, Tunisia, and the Sudan?”
“I conquered no one, Miss Wells. The people of Libya, Tunisia, and the Sudan were eager to join us in creating the world’s first purely Islamic republic. The Pan-Arab Federation exists because of the wishes of the people of North Africa, not because of some alleged conquest. The majority of the Egyptian people also wish to join us. But their corrupt leadership usurped power from the duly elected Islamic officials.”
“There’s a belief, Mr. Mourad, that you’re planning on invading Egypt in the near future. Are you willing, on American television with millions of people watching, to deny such rumors?”
“As we speak, Egypt is in the throes of a great unrest. The virtuous are battling for control of that great nation. I’m confident Allah will see to it truth prevails.”
“Many suspect you’re behind the Egyptian uprising. The methods being used by the Egyptian rebels are quite similar to those you employed in most of your victories.”
“Nonsense, Miss Wells. The lovers of Islam in Egypt are leading the journey to their country’s salvation. My assistance isn’t necessary. They know the path that must be followed to find their way to paradise. They don’t need my help to learn such things. It’s there for the devout to see in the hallowed passages of the Quran.”
“Sir, that may be. But you still haven’t answered my question. The United States has a mutual defense pact with the Egyptian government. We’ve promised to defend that country from any outside attack. I’m positive the American people want to hear your response. Whether or not our soldiers are going to find themselves fighting in the Middle East once more is an issue on everyone’s mind. Are you, or are you not, planning on invading Egypt?”
“My soldiers are stationed on the Egyptian border solely to ensure their civil war doesn’t spill over onto our soil.”
“So you claim you’ve placed a million soldiers on the border for your own protection.”
“I claim nothing, Miss Wells. But your answer’s correct.”
“And you have no intention of invading Egypt?”
“For what purpose?”
“You tell me, Mr. Mourad.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Since you brought it up, sir, let’s talk about your military.”
“If you wish.”
“At the present time, how many soldiers do you have?”
“One never really knows. Ours is a people’s army, and its numbers are constantly changing.”
“Okay, then, if you had to estimate, how many soldiers are serving in your army today?”
“Today?”
“Yes, sir, at this very moment.”
“I’d have to guess.”
“Then guess if you must, Mr. Mourad.”
“A guess? Oh, somewhere around three million.”
“Your army has three million men?”
“No, Miss Wells. Not all who serve Allah are men. Many of our warriors are women. The Quran allows for such. And as I said, the numbers are of little significance. They vary from day to day. This is a reverent cause. If necessary, I’m confident we could put ten million fighters in the field in a matter of days.”
“Did I hear you correctly, sir, you said ten million? Certainly you don’t have weapons for ten million soldiers?”
“No, not nearly so many. But as Arab nations who’ve dared to stand up to the West in the past have discovered, the number of weapons isn’t as important as the quality of those weapons and the training of those who hold them in their hands. In that respect, Allah has blessed my people, for the governments we’ve replaced had very modern weaponry. And since my rise to power we’ve been able to obtain many first-rate arms on the open market. The countries of the world have been eager to sell us their goods. In a few short years, my army and air forces have grown into some of the most powerful on the planet. Our oil money has purchased the best American, British, French, Chinese, and Russian armaments money could buy. And we’ve hired highly skilled instructors from across the globe to teach us how to use them. Each of my followers from ages ten to sixty has received a minimum of six weeks
of military training. Still, to claim to have weapons for ten million would be a lie. Should the time come we won’t need so great a number. Many would enter into battle without weapons. They’d take them from those who’d fallen and begin their own martyr’s journey to paradise.” He paused and looked toward his followers. It was obvious he’d tired of the discussion. “Now, I’m quite sorry, but unless you’ve a question that must absolutely be asked, I’m afraid I must take my leave of you. There are always important matters needing my attention and so little time with which to deal with them.”
“I understand completely, sir. Before I go, I want to thank you for your hospitality and for giving me the opportunity to ask these questions. I hope we meet again quite soon.”
“You’re entirely welcome, Miss Wells. Although I cannot imagine how we’d ever have an opportunity to speak again.”
She stood to leave. The tape ended. A picture of Tony Watson sitting alone at the anchor desk returned to the screen. “There you have it, ladies and gentlemen. As you know, two months after this interview, Mourad’s army invaded Egypt. Iran and Iraq attacked Saudi Arabia and Kuwait. War rages throughout the Middle East. A brutal war that’s already cost untold American lives and threatens to send the world spiraling into chaos. Stay tuned. After these messages, we’ll have the latest from Lauren Wells, live from Egypt with the Marine expeditionary force.”
12
9:40 P.M. (EASTERN STANDARD TIME), OCTOBER 17
ABC NEWS STUDIOS
NEW YORK
Watson took a deep breath and collected his thoughts. Now would come the most difficult portion of the program. In minutes, he’d be live with Lauren Wells. Her report from the battlefront would make or break this evening’s show.
From the control room the voice boomed, “Tony, we’ve got the telephone hookup with Lauren. We still have thirty seconds. Want to check things out before we go back on the air?”
“Sure, Ben, patch her through.”
“Okay, Tony, she’s on the line.”
“Lauren, are you there?”
“I’m here, Tony.”
“Everything set on your end?” Watson asked.
“Seems to be. At the moment, the winds are blowing really hard. And there’s a lot of dirt and smoke flying around. A live picture from here’s definitely out of the question. But the mobile telephone link appears to be working fine. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“Yeah, let’s. Look, Lauren, since we just got word we’d be doing this minutes before the show went on the air, I don’t have a set of prepared questions. We’ll have to play it by ear.”
“That’s okay. I only found out an hour ago I’d been cleared to go ashore. Had to call in lots of favors to get off that ship. So I really haven’t had much time to prepare myself. Don’t worry, though, it’ll go fine.”
“Okay, Tony,” the voice said, “in five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . . one . . .”
Watson’s smiling face returned to America’s homes. Once more, the show’s blaring music played. As it disappeared he said, “We’re back, and as promised, Lauren Wells has joined us from the battle zone. Good evening, Lauren.”
A file photograph of her standing in an unidentified Arab city appeared on the screen.
“Good evening, Tony. I’m reporting tonight from the beaches of northern Egypt. So far, the military’s only allowed a single pool reporter to come ashore. Having drawn the short straw, that reporter’s me. I hope everyone understands for security reasons I’m not allowed to give the exact location of the Marine landing or the precise American battle plans.”
“Of course. What can you tell us about what’s happened so far? What’s going on at the moment?”
“It’s nearly five a.m. here. Since before yesterday’s sunrise the Marines have been reaching this beachhead. At the moment, elements of the 2nd Marine Division continue to come ashore. If asked to make an estimate, I’d say approximately seventeen thousand of the division’s nineteen thousand men and women are on the ground and in position to battle the Chosen One’s army. Right now, with the exception of the distant rumble of artillery, things are fairly calm. They certainly weren’t that way earlier.”
“How so, Lauren?”
“From our vantage point on the deck of the cruiser Thomas Fine, the entire press corps had a front-row seat for the fierce battle that occurred to take and hold this landing zone. It was quite a sight.”
“Lauren, I know all of America wants to hear about what transpired. What can you tell us about the Marine assault?”
“From what I’ve pieced together, we had hoped to catch Mourad’s army by surprise. For that reason, a small reconnaissance unit was sent ashore to check things out. They soon ran into trouble and were reinforced by a couple of infantry squads.”
“How many Marines would that be?”
“Normally around twenty or so in a reconnaissance platoon. Thirteen in each infantry squad. An hour after the recon teams landed, two battalions in amphibious vehicles joined them. Since that time, additional battalions have steadily reached the coastline and entered into battle.”
“From what we’ve heard from the Pentagon, obviously the plan succeeded.”
“Not without a vicious struggle. The initial unit ran into a large enemy force and a number of tanks. An entire Pan-Arab armored division was right behind them. At that point, an immense naval and air attack was unleashed to hold the fanatics while we built up our numbers and began fighting our way both south and east. If you’d seen it, you’d have sworn nothing could survive such an unrelenting barrage as the ships and aircraft laid down. But somehow many of Mourad’s followers did. Throughout the day, I’m aware of at least four enemy counterattacks of division-level strength or larger. Many of the furious clashes included mass suicide charges. The last of those occurred not more than five hours ago some distance from here. Despite the overwhelming numbers against them, the Marines have so far withstood every attack.”
“The Pentagon announced a few hours ago that there’d been significant loss of life on both sides. Can you confirm that, Lauren?”
“American casualties have been quite heavy. With each determined assault, the death toll mounts. I know firsthand such reports are true. Here on the beach, near my broadcast position, green body bags are laid out in long rows. It’s an eerie sight as I watch them fluttering in the strong winds. But our losses are nothing compared to those suffered by the enemy. You can’t walk fifty feet in the desert without stumbling over the rotting corpse of one of the Chosen One’s soldiers. And in every direction you look, burning Pan-Arab armored vehicles fill the horizon. Word from the aircraft carriers is our pilots are reporting endless trails of ravaged tanks. The smoke from these massive fires is so thick it threatens to suffocate everyone.”
“Lauren, are you saying our military’s projecting the tide’s turned, and we’ll soon defeat Mourad’s army? After nothing but gloom and doom for the past three weeks, I know our viewers would be thrilled to hear such news.”
“That’s not at all what I’m saying, Tony. In fact, my sources are telling me quite the opposite. The Chosen One’s promise of paradise is fueling his disciples far beyond anything anyone had projected. Today’s struggles didn’t even faze them. And that’s not likely to change soon. This thing still has a long way to go before the killing will finally stop. Exactly how or when it will end, and who will emerge victorious, is a question no one can answer with any certainty. We’ve had our first good day of the war. But that’s all the Marine landings amount to. For three weeks the Chosen One’s had his way. Nothing’s come close to slowing his advances. Now today, for the first time, he’s suffered a setback in the deserts of northern Egypt. Still it’s just a single defeat. We shouldn’t fool ourselves into thinking we’ve won this war. If anything, the situation in Cairo’s even more desperate than it was yesterday.”
“From what you’ve he
ard, is the military saying Cairo’s going to fall?”
“No one seems to know. By sunrise there will be nineteen thousand Marines on the shores of Egypt. I’ve heard unsubstantiated rumors that in three to five days, the 1st Marine Division will join them. That’ll give us thirty-eight thousand lightly armed Americans against three million of the enemy. With yesterday’s arrival of the aircraft carriers we’ve garnered a modicum of control of the skies. And we’re continuing our efforts to bring American-stateside and Europe-based units to the battlefields. The French and English are doing the same. Even so, prior to now, the extent of our support for the Egyptians was the recent appearance in Cairo of eleven hundred Green Berets. Everyone needs to understand the desperateness of the situation and the limits on what we can do.”
“Those are very sobering thoughts, Lauren.”
“This is a very sobering place, Tony.”
“I’m sure our audience understands there are limits on what you can tell us about the tactical situation. But if you could give us a feel for what you believe will happen next with the Marines, I’m certain it would be greatly appreciated.”
“I can add nothing from any official sources. All have cited security reasons in declining to answer any questions. Throughout the day rumors have circulated about what comes next. But anything further I say is strictly conjecture.”
“And what would that be?”
“Again I want to warn our audience to take what I’m about to tell them for what it’s worth. This is just my opinion based upon the wild speculation of my fellow members of the press corps. It appears the basic idea’s in two parts. The first is well under way. It involves around six thousand Marines moving west until they reach the Libyan-Egyptian border. They’ll attempt to destroy any resistance they encounter along the way. Once there, the Marines will dig in and set up fortified defensive positions. In a few days, a regiment from the 1st Marine Division will land and hurry to join them. The purpose of this part of the invasion is to block the millions of reinforcements Mourad has waiting in Libya, Tunisia, and Algeria. Then, with his supply lines severed and most of his forces outside of Egypt cut off, the next portion of the plan will apply pressure to the Mahdi’s forces in Egypt.”