‘Arrested!’ Ingels cried. ‘On what charge?’
‘We are in a state of emergency,’ said al-Asim. ‘Failure to obey Her Majesty’s orders is a crime.’
The captain summoned all his remaining reserves of dignity. ‘Very well. I will do as you say. But I must put the safety of the passengers above all other demands – even yours, Your Majesty.’ He delivered the title with just a hint of challenge.
‘Just do as you are told,’ Alula ordered.
The guards pulled back. Ingels gestured to one of his men for a walkie-talkie, then used it to speak to a bridge officer. ‘Get us under way. Set course for Bahrain – I’ll confirm the heading when I get up there. And close down all external comms, including the cellular phone masts.’ That last predictably provoked questions. ‘Just follow my orders,’ he said.
The officer acknowledged. ‘Good,’ said Alula. ‘Now take us to the bridge.’
The elderly bearded man shook his head as he finished applying bandages to the Emir’s chest. ‘I always said you were careless, al’amir alshabu,’ he sighed. ‘So much time spent thinking about the future that you don’t see what’s happening right now.’
‘Thank you for your support, Mamun,’ the Emir said weakly, managing a half-smile.
The group had made their way to the modest but comfortable detached house of retired colonel Mamun bin Junayd, the ruler’s former mentor. A high wall around it ensured their privacy. ‘Will he be okay?’ Nina asked.
Junayd stood back. Despite no longer being in the military, the Emir’s old commanding officer had still been prepared for action, producing a well-stocked medical kit after overcoming his shock at finding Dhajan’s wounded monarch at his door. With Eddie’s assistance, he had cleaned and disinfected the wound, then stitched it closed. ‘He is stable,’ he announced as he washed his hands. ‘But he needs to go to a hospital.’
‘Not an option right now,’ said Eddie, joining him. ‘If Alula’s people find him, they’ll kill him.’
The older man shook his head again. ‘Alula. Hmph! I always thought she was an angry girl. But angry enough to try to murder you?’ he remarked to his patient. ‘I would not have believed that.’
‘If men kept calling me “girl”, I’d be angry too,’ Nina said sarcastically.
Junayd dried his hands. ‘And who are you again?’
She bristled, but the Emir spoke before she could give a cutting answer. ‘She is Dr Nina Wilde, the famous archaeologist, and she saved my life. So please, treat her with the same respect you would give me.’
The colonel looked surprised, then bowed his head. ‘Of course, Your Majesty.’ He turned to Nina. ‘I am sorry. I meant no disrespect. This has come as . . . a surprise.’
‘To me too,’ said the Emir. ‘Help me up.’
‘I do not think that would be wise.’
‘If I had been wise, I would not be in this situation. Please.’ Reluctantly Junayd and Eddie helped him sit upright. Even after taking painkillers, agony still shot across his face. ‘You . . . were right. That was not wise.’
Lobato was relieved. ‘But you are still alive. That is what is most important.’
‘What’s most important is stopping Alula before she kills a few million people,’ said Nina. ‘How are we going to do it? She’s probably aboard the Pacifia already.’
‘We need to warn the US Navy in Bahrain,’ said Eddie. ‘If they know there’s a nuke-sized bomb heading their way, they’ll do everything they can to stop it.’
‘But how can we warn them? I doubt it’ll be as simple as phoning the naval base and saying, “Hey guys, you might want to stop that ship.”’
‘Can’t hurt to try.’ There was a landline phone in the room; he picked it up. ‘Or maybe it can.’ An Arabic voice was already coming from it. ‘Dunno what they’re saying, but I doubt it’s good.’
Junayd took the phone. ‘A recording,’ he said grimly. ‘The Emir is dead . . . murdered by foreign terrorists. State of emergency, martial law declared . . .’
‘Foreign terrorists?’ Lobato said, puzzled. ‘What foreign terrorists?’
‘They mean us,’ Nina explained.
‘Don’t know if you noticed, but the Emir’s not dead either,’ Eddie added. ‘It’s this new-fangled thing called lying.’
‘The cellular networks and internet will also have been shut down,’ said the Emir. ‘Unless we can get out of the country, we will not be able to contact anyone – and all routes will now be under Alula’s control.’ He turned at a noise from outside: a voice echoing from a loudhailer, issuing orders. ‘They are telling everyone to stay in their homes and await instructions from the Emira.’ He scowled at the thought of his usurper.
The voice grew louder, then gradually Dopplered away as the vehicle carrying the speaker continued past. ‘But if you show yourself, that will prove she is not telling the truth,’ Lobato suggested.
Eddie shook his head. ‘Can’t risk it. Even if the regular soldiers are still loyal, as soon as any officer who’s on Alula’s team gets involved, the Emir’ll be whisked to somewhere “safe”. And nowhere’s safer than a grave.’
‘Then we’ve got to go after the spearhead itself,’ said Nina. ‘It could enter the final stage any time, if it hasn’t already. We’ve only got a few hours before it explodes.’
‘How?’ asked Junayd. ‘If this bomb is on a ship, the only way to reach it is by helicopter. And every helicopter in the country will be under guard.’
‘Plus Alula and al-Asim are bound to have backup with ’em, just in case the crew decide they don’t want to go on a suicide cruise,’ Eddie added. ‘They’d shoot down a chopper before it could put anyone aboard. Same with a boat.’ He paused, suddenly thoughtful.
‘What is it?’ Nina asked him.
‘Unless it was a big boat . . .’ He turned to the Emir. ‘Dhajan’s navy – have you got any ships that could stop something the size of the Pacifia?’
‘I am afraid not,’ was the reply. ‘Dhajan is only a small country, and the American navy handles most of our defence in the Persian Gulf. We have patrol boats and a few corvettes, but that is all.’
‘Our naval base will also be protected by Alula’s forces,’ said Junayd. ‘Even if we had any larger ships, we would never reach them.’
‘You’ve got one ship that’s larger,’ Nina said, remembering what she had seen while approaching the city. ‘A lot larger – the Atlantia! It won’t be as heavily guarded as the navy base.’
‘You are suggesting we chase a cruise liner . . . in a cruise liner?’ said the Emir in disbelief.
‘They won’t be able to stop it once it gets moving,’ Eddie pointed out. ‘And you wanted to try for a speed record – now’s your chance. Stick your override code in, redline the engines, and we might catch the Pacifia before it reaches Bahrain.’
‘And then what?’ said Lobato. ‘Even if we get on the other ship, and even if we take control of the spearhead, we will be trapped aboard with a bomb!’
‘I don’t know,’ protested Nina. ‘But at least we have a chance.’ She turned to the Emir. ‘If it’s the only option we have, we’ve got to try it.’
‘The ship’s got satellite links and ship-to-shore radio, an’ all,’ said her husband. ‘If we can get aboard, we can warn someone.’
Fadil looked pensive. ‘It is not the option I would choose, but . . . you are right, Dr Wilde. Any smaller boat would be blown out of the water by our own ships, but the Atlantia . . . I am not even sure the Americans could sink a ship so large.’
‘They might have to try,’ Eddie warned. ‘How do we get to the port? If Alula’s forces are in control of the city, we’re bound to run into them.’
Junayd stroked his chin. ‘There may be a way. But you will have to give me a few minutes.’
‘Why?’ asked the Emir.
‘Because, al’amir alshabu, I need to change into my old uniform,’ the retired soldier said with a wry smile. ‘It has been some time since I last wore it – it ma
y not fit!’
It was a squeeze, Junayd having to suck in his stomach before he could fasten his uniform jacket, but he managed. ‘I can hardly breathe,’ he complained, regarding himself in a mirror and straightening his collar. ‘I should have kept up my exercises. But it is so easy to fall out of good habits when you have nothing to work for.’
‘I should never have let you retire,’ said the Emir, putting a hand on his shoulder. ‘If you had stayed at my side, perhaps none of this would have happened.’
‘Who knows?’ Junayd straightened. ‘But we don’t have time to waste on such thoughts. We must stop Alula.’
‘We can start now,’ said Eddie. ‘Another jeep’s coming.’ An amplified voice was slowly growing louder.
Junayd donned a belt and holster, then retrieved a metal box from a drawer and took out an automatic. ‘You’re a bit short on ammo,’ the Yorkshireman noted. The gun was missing its magazine.
‘I never thought I would need any,’ the old soldier replied, slipping the weapon into the holster.
‘Hope they don’t look too closely,’ said Nina. The open space in the gun’s grip was clearly visible.
The Emir smiled. ‘They will have more to worry about, trust me.’
Lobato had gone upstairs to watch the street. ‘I can see them coming!’ he called.
Junayd donned a black beret, then marched to the front door. ‘I will be back soon,’ he told his guests, before speaking in Arabic to the Emir. The two men embraced, then the older stepped outside.
The moment he was gone, the Dhajani gasped in pain and staggered to a seat. ‘Are you okay?’ Nina asked.
‘I will be fine,’ he whispered, breathing heavily.
‘Looks to me like you were trying to impress him with how tough you are.’
A strained chuckle. ‘It would seem that, once again, I cannot fool you for long.’
‘I’ll look after him,’ Eddie said. ‘You see what’s happening outside.’
Nina hurried upstairs. Lobato was hunched beside the bedroom window. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
‘There is a Humvee coming,’ the billionaire replied. ‘Junayd is walking towards it.’
Nina peeked out at the street. About a hundred yards away was a Dhajani military vehicle, a man’s voice booming from a loudspeaker. Soldiers armed with rifles leaned from the windows, watching for anyone breaking the newly imposed curfew. They all turned to aim at Junayd, only to waver at the sight of his uniform.
The colonel signalled for the Humvee to approach, standing with his hands on his hips as he waited. It halted beside him. A junior officer spoke insouciantly from the front passenger seat.
Junayd said nothing for a long moment, merely glaring at him until the young man become visibly nervous – then he erupted, bellowing into his face. The lieutenant scrambled out and stood to attention, his comrades hurriedly following suit. Junayd continued his tirade, circling the hapless officer like a shark before finally standing before him, shaking his head.
‘Wow,’ said Nina. ‘Even I’m scared, and I know he’s not in the army any more!’
Junayd was now issuing orders. The soldier got back into the 4x4 and gabbled into a radio handset, then spoke to the colonel again. Junayd nodded, then waved a dismissive hand before turning on his heel and starting towards the house without a backwards glance. The other soldiers quickly returned to the Humvee, which set off, moving considerably faster than before. The officer’s voice echoed from the loudspeaker again, but his first few words were quavery enough that he had to clear his throat before resuming in a forced baritone.
Lobato and Nina hurried downstairs to meet Junayd. ‘What on earth did you say to them?’ she asked.
‘The same I would have said if I was still serving,’ he replied, amused. ‘A state of emergency is no excuse for lax discipline! But,’ he went on, ‘I told them I had been called to duty, but my car had not arrived. So I ordered them to radio a friend of mine – someone I trust completely,’ he added to the Emir, ‘and tell him to pick me up. We will then have a military vehicle to take us to the port.’
‘Very clever,’ said the Emir admiringly. ‘I am glad you are on our side!’
‘Always and for ever, Your Majesty.’ Junayd saluted him.
‘So now we just wait for the car?’ said Nina.
He nodded. ‘He will be here soon.’
‘I hope so,’ Eddie said. ‘Because the Pacifia’s getting further away every minute.’
Alula stood on the liner’s bridge, staring imperiously through the broad windows. The Pacifia was sailing north through the Gulf of Salwah, Dhajan now far behind them. To the east were the desert shores of Qatar, Saudi Arabia an equally empty line of desert far to port. There was a mist on the horizon ahead, blurring sea and sky together, but she didn’t need to see through it to know they were on course. The ship’s computerised navigation displays were simple enough to read even for a non-sailor; their heading took them directly to Bahrain, the island state at the entrance to the Persian Gulf proper.
The screens also told her the estimated time of arrival: just before three o’clock, with the ship sailing at a solid but not excessive twenty-three knots. She knew it could go faster, but for now she was content to hold this speed. Remaining inconspicuous, insofar as a vessel the size of a supertanker could do so, would help her plan’s chances of success.
Its most critical part remained unpredictable, though. She had regularly checked the spearhead. Its shimmering pulses of light seemed to be getting stronger, but as yet it did not appear to have reached the point of no return . . .
She caught the tail end of a whispered discussion between Ingels and one of his officers. ‘What is going on?’ she demanded, stalking to them. Her guards had stationed themselves around the bridge, unnerving the crew.
‘The passengers are complaining about the loss of communications,’ said the Dane. ‘The internet in particular, but also the satellite television. They are—’
‘Tell them there is a technical fault and the crew are working to repair it,’ she cut in, annoyed. Whining about losing access to their pornography and pabulum! She could barely contain her disgust. The sooner they were all destroyed, the better.
But when would that happen? She gestured for al-Asim to place the case on a plotting table. He did so, then opened it, angling it so the crew couldn’t see what was inside. ‘It hasn’t changed,’ she whispered, frustrated. ‘Did Wilde say anything else about how long it would take to explode after reaching the final stage?’
‘No,’ he replied, closing the case. ‘Only that it would happen within two hours.’
She regarded the navigation display again. ‘The ship will reach Bahrain before then. If it arrives too soon, the Americans might take action.’ A moment of thought, then: ‘Captain!’
Ingels hurried over. ‘Yes, Your Majesty?’
‘I want the ship to arrive in Bahrain at three thirty. Change our speed to do so.’
‘Of course.’ He issued the order.
Alula watched as an officer adjusted the thruster controls, reducing power to the three huge azipods propelling the ship. The speed readout eased back to eighteen knots, the estimated time of arrival creeping upwards.
Alula exchanged a satisfied glance with al-Asim. If the spearhead exploded earlier than expected, it would still have much the same effect: the tidal wave would flatten Bahrain and much of Qatar, as well as inflicting considerable damage on the Saudi coastline. But if it reached its target, the blast would obliterate the rival emirate and the American military base controlling the western Gulf. The balance of power in the entire region would shift, and Dhajan, under her rulership, would be perfectly placed to take advantage.
‘The change has been made, Your Majesty,’ said Ingels.
‘Thank you, Captain,’ Alula replied, with a small, cold smile. ‘Thank you very much.’
42
‘He is here,’ Junayd called from the upper floor.
Eddie helped the Emir to
stand. ‘You ready?’
The deposed ruler was still weak and pale, but with his wound closed and the painkillers taking full effect, he was steadier on his feet. ‘Yes, I think so. Thank you.’
‘Don’t thank us yet,’ said Nina. ‘We haven’t even made it out of the front door. We still have to get right across the city.’
Junayd, still in uniform, hurried downstairs. ‘We will do it. I trust Rakin.’ He and Eddie supported the Emir. ‘Now, quickly.’
Nina opened the door and the group crossed to the gate. Junayd eased it open and peered through. A Land Cruiser in sandy camouflage colours waited on the street. ‘It is clear. Go!’
They hurried to the 4x4, Eddie helping Junayd slide the Emir into the second row of seats. ‘I’ll sit back here with him,’ he told the older man. ‘You get in the front – we’ll need you to do the talking.’
‘I will have to start right away,’ Junayd replied. The driver, a Dhajani army major, was staring at his royal passenger in utter shock. ‘He thought the Emir was dead!’ He climbed in and began a hasty explanation in Arabic.
Lobato and Nina took their places in the rearmost row of seats. ‘At least nobody’ll be able to see in,’ she said. The windows were all tinted.
Lobato was less confident. ‘They will not stop bullets.’
‘Actually, they will,’ said the Emir. ‘All our military vehicles are armoured.’ A faint smile. ‘We buy them from a company in Bahrain, ironically.’
‘Let’s hope they’re still in business by the end of the day,’ Nina said. ‘Still in existence, even.’
‘I have told Rakin everything he needs to know,’ Junayd announced. ‘He will help us – he is loyal to the country, and to its true ruler.’ The Emir expressed his thanks.
‘What’s the situation on the streets?’ Eddie asked as the SUV set off.
The Spear of Atlantis (Wilde/Chase 14) Page 44