TV cameras at the game caught the final shots of the assassins and then the crowd venting its anger on the killers.
Two hours later, General Yasim Nassar attacked the emir’s national palace with two companies of rangers, routed the few guards there, killed more than a dozen people who protested, and claimed that he was the new premier of Bahrain.
He went on TV, urging the people to be calm. He said the savagery of the assassins today who killed the emir made it even more important for there to be a strong government to control the island. He said all connections the assassins had would be investigated, and the blame for this tragedy put on the proper country or movement. He said his own move to stabilize the government went smoothly. That all regular governmental operations and services would continue. The eleven thousand in the armed forces had pledged their support for his move, and the country would be ruled for the next two weeks under martial law to try to root out the factions that assassinated their beloved emir.
He said the prime minister, who was second in command of the nation, was missing, and he was afraid that the terrorists who killed the emir might have kidnapped him. There was no confirmation of this, and the prime minister was eagerly sought by the new government to help assure that there would be a smooth transfer of power to the new regime.
Stroh waved the papers again, and the room quieted. The SEALs knew this man’s connections and his power, and all of it directly affected them and their lives.
“We’ve got big trouble sprouting up all over the Middle East. First those embassy attacks, then the bombings in Cairo on U.S. companies. Then the hijacking of a U.S. flag tanker. Now we have military coups in two nations along the Persian Gulf. Nobody knows what the hell is going on. Whatever it is, it’s big and getting bigger. We’ve had requests from six small nations and emirates and sultanates around the gulf to come and give them some protection.
“There have been military takeovers and assassinations in Bahrain and in Qatar. Okay, not exactly huge places, but those two have been nominally our friends for a while and haven’t been helping out Iraq or Iran.
“We told most of the others asking for help that we’re not the damned police force for the whole fucking world. Most of them don’t understand. They think we have unlimited resources and manpower and planes and tanks. Ain’t so.
“Right now, we’re getting stretched thin in lots of places. We’re relying more and more on the Reserves and the National Guard to fill in and shore up weak spots when we do get a crisis.
“What can I say?”
“So, where do we come in?” Murdock asked. “I know you’re coming to it, but my retirement is coming up in about eighteen years and I’d like to…”
Stroh swung at him and missed. “Okay, you want it flat out, you get it. The sultan of Oman has asked for help, and in their great wisdom, State and the Joint Chiefs have decided that we can give them some help. To get your geography right, Oman is just down from the Strait of Hormuz, and it curves around the peninsula east and south of Saudi Arabia. It’s to hell and gone down there.
“It’s a good-sized place, a little larger than the state of Colorado, and has about two and a half million people. Army has about 45,000 men. It does oil, gas, fruits, dates, and fish. So you guys are going down there and try to keep their sultan from getting his head shot off.”
“Sounds fair,” Murdock said. “When?”
“That’s the fun part. You’re due down there yesterday. The good part is you’re going to Muscat City, which is on the Gulf of Oman, so it’s not a long flight from here.”
Murdock turned to the men. “Hey, you heard the man. Check out your gear, get loaded up with ammo. My guess, we’ll be bailing out of here as soon as we can on a COD. Let’s hustle.”
8
Third Platoon, SEAL Team Seven, landed at the military-controlled airport at Muscat, Oman, just before dawn. The sixteen men off-loaded in bright floodlights and were ushered between military guards to two army trucks and transported to the sultan’s palace, a short way out of the city.
Each man carried double ammo, half of it in a small bag that would be stashed in the new quarters. The Oman military looked efficient enough to Murdock, but he would wait and see how good their security was around the palace grounds. He didn’t expect much.
The trucks drove into a walled compound. It looked to be about a thousand yards square. Lots of places for holes and weak spots. Murdock, Ed Dewitt, Jaybird, and Dobler were all ushered into a plain room at the outer fringe of buildings where an army colonel sat. They all came to attention, and he nodded.
“Gentlemen, I’m Colonel Khalof, director of the sultan’s personal safety and security. I requested your aid. We are pleased that you are here. We are a small country with many enemies. Lately, we have had a number of intrusions and some shooting. We hope you will be able to assist us in our security and to train our people in the best methods of defeating any who try to attack this small fortress. We have a two hundred — man guard force. Do you have any questions?”
“Sir. I’m Lieutenant Commander Blake Murdock, in charge of this platoon. Is it my understanding that we will have some authority to move your men, to suggest different operations, and to assist in the tightening of your security?”
“Commander, you have total authority. One of my officers will be with you to insure that my men comply with your orders. He will also give you a tour of our security and our defensive forces. His name is Major Jabrin.”
At the mention of the name, a rather stocky man with a full but closely trimmed beard stood and saluted. He had stripes on his shoulder boards and turned to Murdock.
“My English not good, but will make understand.”
“Your English is much better than my Arabic. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”
Twenty minutes later, the four men and Jabrin toured the wall surrounding the compound. It was eight to ten feet high, had intrusion alarms on top along with razor wire. Murdock stopped the car where a ravine ran under the wall. It was dry now, but he knew it would surge with runoff water whenever a downpour occurred. A fence of loosely connected barbed wire screened the four-foot ditch under the wall.
“This one will need fixing,” Murdock said. “Some solid wooden gates that can be opened from the inside when a big rain is expected.”
The major made a note on a pad he carried.
By the time the inspection tour was over, Murdock and his crew had found ten places where work needed to be done and security increased. It was nearly dark when Murdock and Senior Chief Dobler talked to the platoon. The men had settled down in a dormitory room with twenty beds and a TV set with a VCR and a rack of more than fifty Hollywood-produced movies.
“We get our feet wet tonight on this security situation,” Murdock said. “There are three roving patrols in humvees. We’ll have two SEALs in each rig. We’ll also put two men at each of the five worst security risks we saw today. We’ll begin the watches at twenty-two hundred and run until morning. Any questions?”
“We have weapons free in case of trouble?” Jaybird asked.
“We were given carte blanche in this matter. If you think you should fire, then shoot up a storm. Just make sure it’s not some frightened kid looking for a handout.”
The SEALs ate two meals with the other troops. Jaybird said the food was fair.
“Don’t know what the hell it was, but it wasn’t camel nuts. It was good. Not that I’d want to live here forever just for the food.”