Farouk was roughly pushed toward his captain's chair in the center of the bridge, and then the place seemed to explode in chaos. Men in Egyptian naval uniforms pointed automatic weapons at the bridge crew, shouting in English. At the same moment, the access door from the center of the bridge burst open, and more English-speaking men rushed in; behind the OOD and chief, the port-side weather door also whipped open, and more strange men entered. Once the bridge crew was gathered up, they were placed down on the deck, hands behind their necks. Four of the commandos stayed on the bridge, while others took up security positions outside and in the inside passageway.
Patrick entered commands into the frigate's computerized helm station, and the ship turned away from the Egyptian coast, increasing power to maximum. He then picked up the captain's telephone and held it out to Farouk. "I need you to tell your crew that we will be delayed in returning to Mersa Matruh and to not interfere with my men."
"I refuse."
Patrick seemingly did not react-but moments later, Farouk's body began to do a strange jerking quiver in his seat, and his eyes began to roll up into his head. The spasm lasted for several moments, then Farouk's body went limp. The Egyptian captain appeared as if he had just been beaten up, his breath coming in deep gasps, although no one had touched him. "It will be harder on you if you do not comply," Patrick said in an electronically synthesized voice.
Farouk held out his hand, and Patrick placed the telephone in it. The Egyptian took several deep breaths, then spoke in Arabic. After he had finished, Patrick turned to one of the Night Stalkers and asked, "What did he say?"
"He said the bridge and probably Engineering and combat have been taken by American commandos. He ordered his crew to resist us to the maximum extent possible."
"The only ones that will be hurt will be your men, Captain," Patrick said. He spoke into his helmet communications system, then handed the phone back to Farouk a few moments later. "We have made contact with your headquarters, Captain. Tell them anyone approaching this ship will be attacked and killed. This is your only warning." Farouk relayed the message, recommending that all forces be dispatched immediately to disable his ship and prevent it from falling into terrorist hands.
"Well, now the Egyptians know we're here," Briggs radioed to Patrick via their battle armor comm system. "Half the crew is ready to rush us from every corner of the ship, and soon half the Egyptian military will be barreling down on us. What's the plan?"
"We need to get in contact with Martindale, have him get every asset we have available searching for Wendy," Patrick said. "I want to turn this ship inside out looking for weapons, I want everyone to get fully recharged and rearmed, and then I want a plan of action to go in and rescue her."
"Patrick," Briggs said softly, "we still don't know if she's alive."
"She's alive. I know it."
"But we don't-"
"I said, she's alive, dammit!" Patrick cried angrily. "I'm going to find her even if I have to move every grain of sand in the desert to do it."
"You cannot go back, Sekhmet," said retired Egyptian army general Ahmad Baris, President Kamal Ishmail Salaam's national security adviser and longtime trusted friend of the family. Fifty-three-year-old General Baris lost most of his right leg in the 1973 Arab-Israeli War, burned off in a tank explosion, but he stayed in government to serve his country as best he could, rising through the ranks from onion-peeler and tailor to intelligence coordinator to tactician to presidential military adviser. "It is too dangerous. Al-Khan's henchmen and the Muslim Brotherhood assassins are everywhere."
"Not even to bury my husband?" Susan Bailey Salaam said in a low voice. Her head and arms were swathed in bandages, and an Egyptian army doctor had inserted an intravenous tube into a vein in her leg because the seconddegree burns on her arms would not allow it.
"Especially not for a funeral," Baris said sadly. "Trust me. You would not be safe. There will be a simple ceremony for your husband, no more. It is too dangerous otherwise."
Susan Salaam and General Baris were on board an Egyptian army helicopter, zooming low over the Mediterranean Sea westward, about five miles off the coast. Ahmad Baris had engineered an alternate escape plan for Susan to get out of the city after the attack so secret that not even the Presidential Guards knew about it. After the men and women killed or injured in the attack were taken away by ambulance from the mosque, Baris had Susan taken in several different ambulances to a waiting army helicopter and whisked out of the city.
"I feel like a coward. I feel as if I have abandoned my husband," Susan said stonily.
The retired general sighed softly, then repositioned his right leg to ease the pain a bit, which easily got Susan's attention. "Your husband is dead, Sekhmet," he said softly, like a father speaking to his young daughter. "Being killed at his grave site by more Muslim Brotherhood assassins would not help him or Egypt." He paused, then added softly, "You know I would follow your husband into hell, and I pledge the same to you. Tell me what you wish, and I will do everything in my poor powers to help you do it."
"What do you suggest, General?"
"We are heading toward Mersa Matruh, our largest military base outside Cairo, about three hundred kilometers west," Baris replied. "I can have a foreign ministry transport waiting for us there. The plane can take us anywhere in western Europe-Portugal, England, Belgium, Ireland. From there, we can request protection from the American embassy-you are a dual national as well as a credentialed Egyptian ambassador, so that will not be a problem."
"I will not leave Egypt," Susan said sternly. "It is my home now, not America." She glared at him with her one unbandaged eye. "I'm surprised you would even suggest it, General."
"I am sorry, Madame. I was only thinking of your safety. I apologize if I have offended you or dishonored the memory of the president by suggesting you flee the country."
"You are still one of the most respected men in all of Egypt, perhaps in the entire Arab world," Susan said, reaching up and taking Baris's hand. "Your loyalty is unquestioned, as is your heart." She looked at Baris, paused as if considering her words, then said, "You could be president, or prime minister, if you so chose. But you stay in the shadows. Your people need you, General. When will you stand up and lead them?"
"I have led men only once, at the head of a formation of tanks in the Sinai against the Israelis almost thirty years ago, and nine of every ten men that followed my orders died in less than a day," Baris said. "I was the lucky oneI lost only part of my right leg. I learned that day that I am far more adept at observing and advising than making actual decisions."
"Nonsense, Ahmad."
"As a famous American psychopathic renegade police officer once said, 'A man's gotta know his limitations,'" Baris said with a smile. His love for American cop movies and westerns-the more violent the better-was well known throughout Cairo. "I am content and secure in the knowledge that I have given good, sound advice to many government officials over the years, and I believe I have served God and made Egypt a better place for it. That is enough for me." He paused, studying Susan carefully, then asked, "What is it you seek, Sekhmet?"
Susan Salaam did not respond for several moments, and Baris was surprised to see a faint smile on her lips when she finally replied, "Am I wrong for saying 'I would like to see Zuwayy and al-Khan dead'?" Baris did not return the smile, so hers dimmed and her exotic eyes narrowed. "The truth, my old friend?" Baris nodded, and she looked away and nodded as well. "I'm happy to be alive. I'm glad I wasn't killed. And so I think that perhaps God had a reason for not wishing me dead. I feel there is something more I must do." Susan shook her head, staring off into space as if reading a newspaper headline from a great distance. She paused, then looked at the retired general. He swallowed as he saw something ominous in her dark almond-shaped eye and full yet innocent lips. "Yes. There is work to be done. You and my husband had plans to restore Egypt to its rightful place as leader of the Mediterranean nations and of the Arab world. I want to continue your goals."