The group stealthily followed in the thick bush, keeping a safe distance from the two columns flanked on both sides by guards. Song led the group whilst Ryder remained at the rear to ensure Grace kept up in the darkness and did not fall foul of unseen obstacles. She had endured much in the way of danger, privation and gruelling activity since landing on the beach with hardly a complaint and, as each day passed, his admiration for her tenacity and courage grew. No matter how much he felt protective towards her, she could soon be on her own facing a far greater danger than he could possibly imagine.
After roughly four miles, the columns suddenly turned onto a spur road hidden by trees that formed a tunnel along a short but shallow valley before coming to an abrupt halt in front of a sheer rock wall.
The group ventured as close as they dared and in the soft moonlight filtering through the tree canopy they could just make out arched wooden doors set in the rock face about four yards wide and six yards high. They waited to see what would happen next.
“Can this be it?” Chol whispered, his rounded features taut and focused intently on the doors.
“Trees block the sats – the cunning bastards,” Bom spat.
Less than a minute later, a door inset into the larger one opened and a uniformed man stepped out and went over to the officer in charge. A few quick words were exchanged and he raised an arm.
The two doors slowly slid open. Once they had fully parted, the two columns were marched through.
From where they hid, Ryder could see from the yellow light within the entrance cavern a series of small huts, which he guessed were the guard house facilities. Beyond these, a narrow passage led down to what appeared to be a further set of double doors in the distance. The front doors began to close. Ryder decided it was too risky to hang around so close to this entry, so he quietly led his team deeper in amongst the trees to be swallowed up by the blackness of the forest.
22
K449 had gingerly edged her way 1,200 miles northward up the Argentina coastline without incident at around ten knots and at a depth of 500 feet. Keeping as close to the shore as possible, they hid in its busy sea lanes and the cacophony of coastal noises. The Russian Delta III submarine followed a course Captain Kamani hoped would take them undetected, right up to the North Atlantic. The crew were now fully conversant with all of the submarine’s operational and weaponry systems. It took endless hours of training and practice, but the repetition of daily routine was beginning to tell, fostering boredom, despite each day bringing them closer to the glory of Islam and to the glory of Allah.
Captain Asad Kamani and his XO, Lieutenant Hamid Zaha, were totally focused on the running of the ship and on the task ahead. The elation at entering the Atlantic without detection had been a great boost to morale, proving that Allah was providing protection. Both men were hunched over the chart table studying detailed maps of the South American eastern seaboard, North Atlantic and the Caribbean Sea.
“Unless something unforeseen happens, we keep to the plan,” said the captain. “We stay close in all the way; follow the Brazilian coastline until reaching the Windward Islands. Then we shall turn north, keeping to the west of these islands, track along the Puerto Rico Trench, then head north to the release point. Once released, the Stingray will take less than five minutes to reach the target, leaving insufficient time for the infidel to intercept.”
The lieutenant looked up. “The continental shelf slopes sharply away at those coordinates, 600 feet to 6,000. That’s a big drop. I still think we should make our escape in the noisy coastal waters; we will be extremely vulnerable out in the deep.”
“Lieutenant, Allah will protect us. We have been through this many times. The coordinates were chosen so that we could, if necessary, go deep immediately after release and hug the ocean floor along the shelf. The sheer background of rock will confuse enemy sonar and protect us on our run back to the rendezvous.”
Kamani prayed inwardly that he was right, hoping, too, that the Libyan freighter acquired specifically for this one operation would be at the RV. Here, after scuttling K449 in deep water, he and the crew would be transferred and bound for Africa.
“Remember, Lieutenant,” Kamani continued, “we will be in deep water for over 1,400 miles from the Leewards. But I take your point; we need to be extremely careful. It is essential we get away from the release area as quickly as possible. Following the shelf line will allow us to do that before enemy subs invade the area.”
The lieutenant nodded reluctant acceptance and said, “At the current speed it will take thirty-five days to reach the coordinates; the men are becoming restless. They had not expected such a long journey. All ship systems have been thoroughly mastered; we are as ready at this point as we ever will be.” He paused for a reaction; none came, so he pressed on. “As we have not encountered the enemy since leaving the Strait, I respectfully suggest that we consider increasing speed. An increase to fifteen knots would take off ten days.”
Captain Kamani glanced around the control room, taking in each man as he went quietly about his duties. He understood clearly what his XO was saying; he too felt impatient at the time it was taking to strike at the infidel. Perhaps he was being a little too cautious. If they had been allowed to follow their original plan, glory would have been theirs by now. He let the lieutenant’s suggestion hang in the air before deciding if the slightly higher risk of detection by increasing speed in these noisy coastal waters was worth it to make the strike earlier.
After a minute or two of consideration, he turned to the XO. “I agree, Lieutenant.” Then to the helmsman, he commanded, “Maintain course and depth. Increase speed to fifteen knots.”
23
The day after they discovered the mountain entrance, Ryder was awakened by Chol mid-morning, following a good night’s sleep, which he had badly needed to quell the mind-numbing fatigue. The group had made camp about a mile from the entrance in a short, concealed gully with steep sides, protected on both ends by dense bush. It was just narrow enough to defend and escape should they be discovered. Each of the others tried to get as much rest as they possibly could; all knew the next phase of the mission would be the most testing and the most dangerous – particularly for Grace. The weather was overcast but warm and they hoped for some rain to top up their water supplies, which were now getting low.
“How’re we going in – through the front door?” Song asked as he ate a handful of rice.
“The entrance cavern looked like an airlock. Even if we get through the front, I doubt we’ll get through the back doors. As I see it: to try and fight our way in is not a viable option,” Chol answered, sucking on a strip of dried meat.
“As inmates then?” questioned Bom.
“Could be weeks before the next batch arrives,” said Chol. “Setting up near the entrance, or somewhere along the road, would increase the chances of discovery.”
“How would we get into the columns without the guards knowing?” Bom asked. “You saw the head count at the camp and the recount at the entrance.”
“Create a diversion; distract the guards and scatter the inmates. In the confusion we move in as inmates,” said Song.
“That would mean killing five innocents,” said Grace, looking intently at the Korean.
“Unfortunately,” he replied. “But the lives of five who probably want to die anyway – like the loggers – are, I reckon, a small price to pay to avoid the possible consequences.”
For a second it looked as if she were going to challenge Song’s easy disregard for human life, but she didn’t.