"That will take hours."
"Tell him to do it faster," Riyad growled. "The enemy is converging on you. Those missiles cannot be allowed to fall into enemy hands. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir," Narsai acquiesced. "Do you think it's the Iranians?"
Riyad thought back to the Yemeni guard in Eyl. "No. Just hold them off, Saleh. Do not surrender and do not let those missiles be taken."
Riyad broke the connection and opened his eyes wide at Kashgari. The air inside the bridge was heavy with tension. "We cannot catch up with them. Maintain course. How long to prepare the Termits for launch?"
In the role as Northstar's escort, the Saad el Melik carried a missile launcher and four P-15 Termits missiles. Designated by NATO as SS-N-2 Styx, the Termits were obsolete by today's standards of anti-ship missiles, but they were still powerful enough to sink a warship.
And the Northstar wasn't even a warship.
"An hour," Kashgari said.
"Begin preparations. If it looks like the Americans are taking the ship and the Baburs are not launched, we will sink the Northstar. How deep are the waters in this part of the ocean?"
The ship captain walked over to the chart table and stared it for a few seconds.
"We're in luck.” He motioned Riyad over. "We are still over the Somali Basin. The average depth is thirty-six hundred meters. If the Northstar sinks within the next six hours, the Americans will not be able to retrieve the warheads."
Riyad stared at the map for a few seconds, then nodded.
"Good. May Allah stay our hand and grant our brethren the strength to fire those missiles."
Saleh Narsai's emotional state was somewhere between fear, anger and determination. He put the satellite phone down and activated the ship's intercom.
"Attention, soldiers of Allah!" he began, his voice echoing throughout the ship. "Arm yourselves and prepare to repel infidel borders. Anti-aircraft teams: to your stations! Dr. Masood: report to the bridge at once!"
Narsai turned to the three men on the bridge. "Arm yourselves. The colonel is coming to our aid, but until then we are on our own."
"It's only one helicopter," Musa, who manned the helm, said.
"That is one helicopter too many," Narsai replied, anger creeping into his tone. "There are naval vessels coming in from the east. The helicopter is either out here to track us, or to land a special forces team on this ship to retake it."
Musa nodded. "Of course, Captain.”
"Hold current speed and heading," Narsai directed.
"What is going on?" Masood demanded as he stepped onto the bridge. His face was scrunched into a tapestry of wrinkles and worry lines.
"The infidels are tracking this ship," Narsai said. "Colonel Riyad has ordered you to prepare the missiles for launch."
Masood's eyes widened in shock. "That takes time!"
Narsai shot the Pakistani an ugly look. "Then you had better start, Doctor."
"I need to talk to—"
Narsai’s hand rested on the butt of his pistol. "You have your orders as I have mine. Prepare those missiles now."
Masood nodded and bolted off the bridge.
"Seas are getting rougher," Musa said. He glanced at a screen to his left. "Winds are picking up."
"That works in our favor." Narsai tried to ignore the shiver of fear sluicing down his back and the feeling that something bad was about to happen.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
From the co-pilot's seat of the helicopter, Tanner glanced at the radar and then raised a pair of binoculars to stare through them into the darkness ahead.
"Got it," he said to Axiam. "Twenty miles ahead."
Axiam eyeballed his instruments. "Winds are increasing. If they get any stronger, it's going to be a real rough ride in this tub." The Somali looked at the radar again, then at Tanner. "Hang onto your shorts, people!"
The Hip rose a couple of hundred feet. On the horizon, Tanner saw a light. On the radar he saw the blip corresponding to the light’s source.
He pointed to the illumination. "That's it.
Axiam nodded and said something in Somali. Tanner turned to look back into the cargo compartment. Both Geedi and Madar were preparing the machine guns for action, loading them with belt-fed 12.7mm ammo.
"Wilson!"
Tanner turned back to look at Axiam. "Behind my seat is a box of flares. Take them back to my cousins."
Tanner did as he was asked. Madar nodded and took the box, the noise inside the aircraft making unaided conversation impossible. Madar carried the flares to the back of the compartment. Curious, Tanner followed.
Madar placed the box next to a door the size of a welcome mat in the floor. He used a welded handle to open the lid. Beneath lay a honeycomb-like structure, angled toward the rear of the Hip. Madar opened the box and quickly placed flares into each honeycomb.
A tap on the shoulder made Tanner turn to see Geedi standing there. The Somali motioned toward the cockpit with his thumb. Tanner nodded and rejoined Axiam in the cockpit, donning the headset again as he took the co-pilot's seat.
"Infrared countermeasures?" he asked.
Axiam shrugged. "Enough people don't like me, and most don't care about how I die. I've been nearly shot out of the air a couple of times by anti-aircraft missiles. I managed to kludge something together and it's worked so far."
The light on the sea was now much brighter, bright enough for Tanner to see it wasn't a single light, but a number of closely grouped bulbs on a ship. He raised a set of binoculars and viewed the vessel. Tarps had been placed over two areas between the stacks forward of the superstructure, and those spaces were lit up. But he was too far away to see anything else.
"We have to get closer," he said into the radio.
"How much closer?" Axiam demanded.
"Close enough to see what going on under those tarps forwards of the superstructure."
"I don't like it, but it's your funeral. I will do this only once, so make it count."
"Stephen!" Tanner called out. "Take pictures of the ship as we pass. Concentrate on the forward container stacks."
"Pictures, copy."
Axiam pulled back on the collective. "Everyone make sure your seat belts are tight and your trays are upright because the ride is about to become rough." He then spoke rapidly in Somali, presumably the same warning to his cousins.
Tanner pulled the restraint harness around him and fastened it tight.
Liam said over the intercom, "Ready back here."
Axiam dropped the Hip until it was only twenty-five feet above the waves, the water spraying in their wake as they raced toward the container ship at better than a hundred miles an hour. The ship grew larger in the windshield, and with their angle of approach, Tanner could read the ship's name on the stern. The ship continued moving northeast, showing no sign that they had noticed the approaching helicopter.
Four miles from the Northstar, Axiam turned the Hip left, onto a parallel course, and slowing the helicopter. As they flew past the ship, Tanner used the binoculars again to view the vessel.
There were people on top of the superstructure. As they flew past, Tanner saw two of the figures raise tubes, place them on their shoulders and point them at the Hip.
"Incoming!" Tanner shouted as first one, then a second missile streaked from the shoulder launchers.
Axiam snarled something in Somali. He increased their speed and banked hard away from the ship as he clawed for altitude. Tanner heard several "pops" from somewhere below and behind him, but he was more intent on the two missiles hurtling toward them. From somewhere below the Hip, there was bright light that Tanner could only see the edges of.