Because they took the stairs, she told herself. Ok, he is smart.
Later, Roya didn’t even remember deciding to do it. But at this moment, she lifted the cell phone that was still in her hand and began recording the scene in the hallway.
Now the Pasdaran men finally saw the soldiers and quickly moved the Supreme Leader’s body between them, while pulling out their guns.
“Drop your weapons,” Arif ordered.
“Drop yours,” both of the Pasdaran men said, almost simultaneously.
“You have no authority to move the Supreme Leader,” Arif said.
“Surrender, or we will open fire.”
“And risk killing the Supreme Leader? I think not,” one of the Pasdaran men sneered.
“I have more soldiers on their way, and they’ll be here any minute,” Arif replied calmly. “We’ll have to act, because that respirator isn’t going to last long on battery. So, your only choice is to surrender.”
Roya could see one of the men moving up his rifle to fire. Just as she was going to call out a warning, she saw Arif smoothly move his rifle towards the man and fire a single shot. The sound was deafening.
The Pasdaran man was thrown backward and his rifle flew from his hands.
He twitched once, and then stopped moving.
The other Pasdaran man then lifted his rifle and yelled, “Yes, I do have another choice!” before firing several rounds from his crouch behind the Supreme Leader into the comatose man’s body.
Both Arif and the other soldier ran forward, and as soon as they had a clear shot both fired at the assassin. From her angle Roya couldn’t see, but she was sure the assassin was dead.
Moments later Arif walked to the storage closet and slowly opened the door, to find Roya on the floor sobbing, with her phone lying on the floor beside her.
“They killed her, and now they killed him!” she cried.
“I know, and I’m sorry,” Arif said gently. “Are you hurt?” he asked.
Roya shook her head, and unsteadily got to her feet. She felt Arif’s hand on her arm helping her rise. His face was full of concern as he asked again, “Are you sure you’re OK?”
From anyone else the repeated question would have annoyed her. From Arif, for some reason, it did not.
Roya nodded, and then asked, “Do you really have more soldiers coming?”
Arif replied, “Yes, and I think I hear them on the stairs now.” Now Roya could hear them too. Unlike Arif and the other soldier, these were making no effort to conceal their approach.
Arif looked down at Roya’s phone, which she had left lying on the floor.
Arif bent down and picked it up, and then handed it to her. Then he asked, “I saw us on the screen. Did you record what happened?”
Roya looked at the phone, her expression dazed. “I guess so, though I don’t remember deciding to do it.”
Arif said gently, “I understand. Is it OK if I borrow your phone, just until we can copy that recording?”
Roya nodded. “Yes. Anything that will help you catch whoever sent those men. Kidnapping the Supreme Leader wasn’t their idea.”
Arif cocked his head. “What makes you think so?”
Roya’s face contorted with hatred, and then she collected herself and said evenly, “I’m surprised those two had the wits between them to lace their boots. Men like that take orders, they don’t give them.”
Arif looked thoughtful for a moment, and then said, “I think you’re right.”
He paused and said, “My most trusted soldier is going to take you home. You have my word that we’re going to make sure your friend’s body is treated with dignity. I will see you tomorrow to return your phone, and if you’re up to it probably ask you more questions. In the meantime, please stay home and say nothing to anyone. Can you do that for me?”
Roya nodded mutely. It all seemed like a terrible nightmare, but as she looked at the Supreme Leader’s body at the end of the hall, she knew it was one that soon the entire nation would share.
Chapter Twenty Five
Prince Bilal looked around him at the barren desert landscape as the Qatari armored force approached a major highway intersection. This, like the other spots where he thought the Saudis might have rushed an armored force to stop him, was eerily empty.
Bilal had ordered the Al-Nadha men dressed as Saudi Highway Patrolmen he had been told to expect near Al-Hofuf to go ahead of their armored force, to clear the way of civilian vehicles. Over the last half-hour that had proved unnecessary so he had ordered them to depart down a side road, as in battle their patrol cruisers would be useless.
Maybe the word was out that his force was on its way. Or maybe the Saudi military had set up roadblocks. Either way, Bilal was glad the road to Riyadh was clear. Though his Leopards were capable of going up to sixty-eight kilometers per hour on the highway many of his support vehicles were less speedy, so he was going at a relatively sedate fifty kilometers per hour.
Bilal glanced behind him, where most of his two hundred tanks and all the assorted support vehicles and APCs followed, including the two S-300s he was counting on to keep them safe from air attack. He had them spaced out as he’d been taught at the German Armor School where one of the first lessons had been, “Don’t let one shell take out two tanks.” When a tank suffered a penetrating hit it quite often set off some or even most of the rounds it carried as well as its fuel, which could result in an explosion capable of damaging a nearby tank. That damage would usually not be total but could easily involve knocking off or, even worse, damaging the tank’s treads.
Spaced out, there were far more vehicles behind him than Bilal could see, though the view from his perch in the tank’s open cupola was excellent. The sky could not have been clearer, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight.
A Leopard tank platoon was in front of him for security, and two scout Fenneks were ahead of the entire force. Jointly produced by the Dutch and
Germans, Bilal would have never looked at the Fenneks if it hadn’t been for the decision to buy Leopards from the Germans.
The Fennek was a light armored vehicle that had proved its worth in Afghanistan, where one had taken a penetrating hit from an RPG that blew off one of the doors, but thanks to its interior spall lining its occupants suffered only minor injuries. Built for reconnaissance, it featured an extendable mast with a camera, thermal imager and laser rangefinder, and was Bilal’s best chance of seeing the Saudis before they spotted him.
Bilal noticed the flock of birds, and at first it reminded him of the time he’d spent in Germany. The sheer variety of plants, birds and animals living in the area where he had done his training on the Leopard had astonished him, and his sinuses in particular had gone through a painful but ultimately successful adjustment period.
Then Bilal’s blood froze as he realized there are no bird flocks in the desert.
Bilal dropped inside the turret, slammed the hatch shut behind him, and grabbed the radio handset.
“Disperse! Smoke! Air attack!” he yelled into his radio, which was keyed to transmit force-wide, and was gratified to see that his crew and all the vehicles in sight were quick to follow orders. They immediately veered off the highway, deployed smoke and began evasive driving.
Seconds later, BLU-97/B Combined Effects Bombs guided by the DT-X microdrones began to fall on the Qatari force. Many Leopards held up well under the bomblet assault. The addition of modular armor to their 2A7 variant proved its worth, and even after hits cleared that away the spaced multilayer armor underneath also proved to be tough to crack.