Ali nodded. “Do you think there was more than one launcher?”
Hadi looked at him angrily and said, “Give me another plane, sir, because I’d sure like to find out!”
The Crown Prince put a hand on his arm. “I saw what was left of your last plane, Captain. You did well to make it back to report on this new threat.
Now, rest while we decide how best to attack these invaders. I will see to it personally that you get a chance to avenge the commander’s death.”
An approving murmur passed around the table, and Hadi rose unsteadily.
Everyone knew, though, that he would not welcome assistance. The Crown Prince leaned towards the aide seated next to him and whispered, “Make sure he reaches his bunk,” as Hadi made his way to the conference room door.
Once the pilot was gone, the Crown Prince looked around the room. “Now I will tell you what little I know. I sent out those planes in response to a report from the commander at King Khalid Military City, who said he had sent out a patrol with three M1A2 tanks and three APCs last night to investigate a report of armored maneuvers he hadn’t authorized. He got a report back from one tank of an enemy armored force that was cut off before any detail was provided, and has heard nothing since. He wanted authorization to send out his remaining forces in pursuit, but I ordered him to stay put until we can assess the threat.”
The Crown Prince paused. “Make no mistake, we will respond. But we will do so in a way that guarantees victory.” Heads nodded around the table. Only a fool rushed pell-mell into an enemy’s arms.
“The Americans have passed us images collected by one of their drones that show a large force is headed south towards Riyadh. They don’t tell us much more than Captain Al-Joud was able to see with his plane’s instruments. Whoever they are, the enemy has found some way to conceal themselves from both optical and electronic sensors. We have asked the
Americans if they have any idea how this could be done, but have not yet heard back from them,” he concluded.
Ali shook his head. “After this and the nuclear attacks, we must return all the armored forces we just sent to Yemen immediately.”
The Crown Prince nodded. “Yes. I have assumed command of the Air Force, and ordered most of our planes to return to Riyadh from Yemen, excepting only those already pursuing the most promising reports of ballistic missile sightings. I presume you will move our armored forces back by rail from Jaizan?”
Ali shrugged. “Correct. As you know, our C-130s can’t move our M1A2s, and only a single M-113 APC. I wish the Americans would agree to sell us some of their C-5s. Those could take two tanks on each flight.”
Now it was the Crown Prince’s turn to shrug. “Well, yes. But as I’ve told you, so far they haven’t even sold C-5s to their NATO allies. For now, we will just have to make do with transport by train.”
Ali nodded. “I’ll get my men on it immediately.” Then he hesitated. “You said that the Americans have used one of their drones to provide us with images of the invaders. Could they use some of their armed drones to attack them?”
The Crown Prince spread his hands and said, “I have asked. To sum up a long discussion, the Americans are willing in principle to help, but want to know first just who they are attacking. There is also a practical problem.
Their drones use weapons with either infrared or radar guidance. Somehow these invaders can avoid both. Until either we or the Americans can solve this puzzle, I don’t think we can count on much help from them.”
Ali grunted. “Very well. I’m going from here directly to our armor headquarters to prepare an attack on the invaders. Once we put shells into their tanks and capture some prisoners, we should be able to get answers to some of our questions.”
The Crown Prince smiled, but looked worried. “I agree, but keep your eyes open. None of this makes any sense, and we need to understand what the enemy hopes to achieve. Yes, the images from the Americans show a sizable invasion force, but certainly not large enough to make a serious attempt at occupation. We are missing something, and need to understand what that is.”
Ali nodded. “Understood. As soon as we engage the invaders, I’ll report back on what we find personally.”
The Crown Prince nodded. “I would expect nothing less.” Then he paused and added, “Good hunting, Ali.”
A low and approving growl sounded around the table that would have made Colonel Hamid Mazdaki very uncomfortable had he heard it.
Chapter Twenty Two
Lieutenant Salah Beydoun was in charge of two other highway policemen at the roadblock preventing travel south on Route 615. It wasn’t the first time the route had been closed, because its main purpose was to connect eastern Saudi Arabia with Qatar through the Salwa border crossing.
So drivers had been annoyed, but not particularly surprised, when they were politely told to travel south via Highway 75 instead. If they were driving as far as the United Arab Emirates, that meant having to cut across east on Highway 10. Anyone with a map could see that Route 615 was much shorter.
But Highway 75 and Highway 10 were far superior, both in original construction and subsequent maintenance, and could be safely driven at about double the speed possible on Route 615. Since Route 615’s main purpose had always been to allow travel to and from Qatar, the blockade had meant that the only reason to even keep it open was to make it easier for Saudi tanks and APCs to travel to Salwa to enforce it.
Of course, tank treads weren’t especially good for highways.
So, most drivers had figured out that though longer, Highway 75 and Highway 10 were the best way to get from eastern Saudi Arabia to the UAE.
Thankfully, anyone with enough money to have a car in Saudi Arabia also had a smartphone. That meant word traveled fast to other drivers via several apps that provided updates on traffic conditions. After the roadblock had been up for about an hour, traffic to it had nearly ceased.
However, Salah could see that a car was now coming, and his heart sank as he saw it was a highway patrol car. Since it was a late model car and in excellent condition, Salah also knew it contained a senior officer.
Fortunately, he appeared to be alone.
“Fortunate” because though Salah was indeed a real highway patrol officer, the two men with him were not. Instead, they were fellow Saudi members of
Al-Nadha that Salah had provided with the appropriate uniforms, which had not been difficult for an officer to obtain.
Just beyond the stretch of highway visible from the roadblock, within half an hour two hundred Leopard tanks were going to start refueling from tankers for their final push to Riyadh, after having already traveled one hundred fifty kilometers. And they were going to do it without being detected, as long as Salah could keep this roadblock in place.
“Captain Harbi! Good to see you, sir,” Salah said, with all the enthusiasm he could muster. It wasn’t easy, because Harbi was the last person Salah wanted to see. A stickler for regulations, if he sensed something was up this operation could go wrong very quickly.
“Lieutenant, who ordered you to set up this roadblock? And why don’t I know these men?” Harbi asked, his eyes squinting with obvious suspicion.
“Why, Captain Badawi, sir. Didn’t he tell you? And the men were just transferred to us from Dhahran last week,” Salah said, trying to act — but not overact — puzzled. Captain Badawi was Salah’s direct superior, and Salah knew he had the day off. He was also well known for not taking kindly to being called on days off for anything but genuine emergencies.
“No, he didn’t. He didn’t note the order in the duty log, either,” Harbi said flatly.