Ashour was and always had been a strong supporter of the President and his father before him. He was a distant relative and his loyalty was unquestioned. He was renowned for his anti-Israeli and anti-West views. His ideals were in perfect harmony with those of his President. The two men smiled at each other as their eyes met. Ashour wore a keffiyeh, the traditional Arab headdress and the long white traditional thawb (robe). His white beard did little to hide a face tanned the colour of oak by the sun and deeply creased by his 70 years of life. Now only Ashour, the President and his personal guards remained in the bunker.
“Unless you have a plan Ashour I do not want to speak with you” the President said in a quiet but not unpleasant tone.
“Yes sir, I have a plan.” Ashour waited for a response from the President. It took a long time in coming. The President sighed;
“Will it win the war for me?”
“No sir. This is a war that cannot be won. But it would end the war and you would be seen as the victor. You would have to be prepared to give up part of Syria to the rebels.” Ashour waited once more to gauge the President’s reaction.
“That has been suggested before Ashour, but the rebels would not accept this.”
“Would it be acceptable to you to give up one quarter of the country to the rebels? I would suggest the south-east provinces. They are of little use anyway; mostly desert. No oil or strategic use. The rest of the country would remain yours. Maybe under a new name. The Free Peoples Republic of Syria has a ring to it!”
“And just how do I achieve this master plan Ashour?”
“With a demarcation military zone, to be policed by the ‘independent’ West for maybe 10 or 20 years before handing responsibility over to the Arab League, who will eventually hand the responsibility back to you.”
“And why would the western dogs support this plan?”
“Because you would have something they wanted back.”
“What would I have that they wanted back so badly that they would make such a U-turn after all the lies they have spread so publicly about my country and myself?”
“Not what. Who.”
“Who!” The President sighed. “I am getting tired of our game of words Ashour. Who?”
“HRH Prince William.”
“The Queen of England’s grandson” whispered the President, almost to himself.
The President was quiet as he imagined the possibilities and the possibilities interested him enough to continue the game of words with Ashour.
“And how exactly would I get Prince William?”
“You wouldn’t. Well, not officially. He would be kidnapped by a terrorist group. Al- Qaeda! The same terrorists that you are fighting in your own country. It is because of this very fact that you would be able to help in the safe return of the future King of England. After capturing a terrorist here in Syria, he would reveal to you information about the kidnapping. With your own intelligence service and special forces you would be able to mount an operation to rescue the Prince…….”
“As long as they agreed to support the peace plan for the new Free Peoples Republic of Syria” interrupted the President.
“Yes sir.”
“And do you think that they would, Ashour?”
“Yes sir, I do. Prince William is very popular amongst the people, not just in England but also in the United States and around the world. His wife is just about to have a baby and everyone loves these people. He is going to be a future King of England. I think that the British would get the support of the Western Powers in negotiating his safe return, in recognizing the new Free Peoples Republic of Syria and helping to implement the peace plan using United Nations soldiers to do it.”
The President smiled. It was the first time he had smiled in over a year.
“Yes. I could handle the negotiations. This would be perfect and the world would recognize me as a hero and recognize Free Syria as a friend. Do you have a plan to take the Prince?”
“Of course, sir. It’s a good plan and we really have nothing to lose; nothing that we are not going to lose anyway.”
“Okay. I want to hear your plan. Come back with me to the palace. We can talk over dinner. I’m hungry.”
~2~
In Myanmar, or Burma as most people around the world still knew it, things had been changing quickly on the political front since the release of democratic leader Aung San Suu Kyi from her long house arrest. For 15 of the last 21 years she had been locked away, but the winds of change were blowing through Myanmar and the world had started to take notice.
Barack Obama had already visited the country and the Myanmar President, former general Thein Sein, became the first head of state from Burma to visit the United States since 1966. The British had left a big footprint in Burma, just as they had in many countries around the world from the days of the British Empire. In 1885-86 Britain captured Mandalay after a brief battle and made Burma a province of British India, thereby ending the reign of the last Burmese King. (King Thibaw) In 1937 Britain separated Burma from India and made it a crown colony.
In 1942 Japan invaded and occupied Burma with some help from the Japanese-trained Burma Independence Army, which later transformed itself into the Anti-Fascist Peoples’ Freedom League (AFPFL) and resisted Japanese rule.
In 1945 Britain liberated Burma from Japanese occupation with help from the AFPFL, led by Aung San, and in 1948 Burma became independent.
British Foreign Secretary William Hague became the first British politician to visit Burma in 56 years. In all these new waves of diplomatic visits, concerns were raised by the West about human rights and especially in respect of the Muslim minority. But they were little more than a gentle nudge. Myanmar was making progress and was being welcomed back into the world family. The visit by the British Foreign Secretary was considered a great success. Britain had in the past held great influence over the small south-east Asian country and hoped to have great influence again on a business and political level. The last British Royal to visit Burma was The Prince of Wales (later to become King George V) in 1905.
The Myanmar President, Thein Sein, thought that 2013 was a good year to receive another Royal visit and made the request to the British Foreign Secretary, but it seemed the request had fallen on deaf ears. He repeated the request to the American President who telephoned the British Prime Minister. Both leaders agreed that the time was now right for such a visit and the Prime Minister promised to raise the issue with the Queen at his next weekly meeting with her.
~3~
Ashour sat with his President in the palace in Latakia. The President had not returned to his palace in Damascus since three of his top officials had been killed in an attack on the building the year before. The President felt safer in the coastal stronghold of Latakia and had moved his entire family there too. Today he was optimistic about his future as Syria’s leader. The two men were served food and waited until everyone except the President’s personal bodyguards had left the huge room. The bodyguards stood at the doors. There were no windows to this room. The President was relaxed.
“So, tell me Ashour, how do we get Prince William? I’m intrigued.”
Ashour stubbed out the half smoked hand-rolled cigarette into the heavy hand carved wooden ashtray and then, with the same hand, he scooped up a handful of seedier, a fish dish with rice and caramelized onions, rich with herbs and spices. He squeezed it into a little ball in the palm of his hand and popped it into his mouth before talking. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the taste of the herbs and spices as they excited his taste buds. Rice spat from his mouth as he spoke.
“We have intelligence from our people in London that the Myanmar President has requested a royal visit. The British government thinks it is a good idea to help the tide of change in Myanmar. The only royals who didn’t have any state visits scheduled for 2013 are
Prince William and his wife, because of the birth of their baby. The Queen has ordered Prince William to make the three day state visit on her behalf. He is going alone.”
“What about his security?”
“Like all visits, state visits or otherwise to anywhere by the Royal family, it will be risk assessed. The risk assessment is a five page document, mostly tick in boxes numbered 1 to 5 to various questions, and boxes for comments if other factors need to be considered. The risk assessments are conducted by the same people all the time. They get tired and bored filling in the form. Not much consideration will go into the ticks and Myanmar is considered low risk at the moment. The Prince will have his personal bodyguard consisting of two British plain clothed policemen and, because it is a foreign state visit, he will also have an SAS (Special Air Service) soldier also in plain clothes. He’ll be the one wearing sunglasses. They always do.” Ashour laughed out loud. “The Prince will fly into the new capital Naypayidaw on the 13th. He will meet the President and the leader of the opposition at a state dinner. On the 14th he will be driven down to Rangoon in a four vehicle convoy, escorted by four police motorcyclist and two Myanmar army trucks carrying a total of forty soldiers, to visit some new factories. In the evening he will attend a dinner to meet business men and bosses from the manufacturing industries. On the 15th the convoy will take him to Mawlamyine to visit a solar powered plant used to extract salt from sea water. In the afternoon he will fly back to the UK from Mawlamyine International Airport………..but of course, he won’t!”
“I take it that you have his full itinerary, times and routes?”
“Yes, of course. We have everything. Even the British public doesn’t know yet that he is going to make the trip. It will be announced by Buckingham Palace the day before he makes the visit.”
“And when and how exactly do we take him?”
“As you know, for many years we have been supplying some of the arms we receive from Russia to our Muslim brothers in the south of Thailand. More recently we have started supplying our brothers in Myanmar to help in their struggle against the regime. We have a base in Phuket in Thailand that fronts as a restaurant. We have already made contacts in Myanmar and in the south of Thailand. We have recruited an army! The convoy will be attacked as it nears Mawlamyine. Our brothers will be dressed as police and soldiers. The escorting vehicles will be blown up. Everyone in the Prince’s vehicle will be executed and the Prince will be taken. At the same time distraction attacks will take place at strategic points. The state run TV and radio stations and police stations will also be targeted. Our brothers in Myanmar are going to use the event to start an uprising. It will be chaos. The Prince will be taken to the coast, less than 20 minutes away and then taken by fishing boat across the Andaman Sea to the south of Thailand. There he will be held in a safe house in the jungle, until he is rescued by Syrian special forces after the Western world signs up to the peace plan for the new Syria. You will then be seen by the entire world as the hero that you truly are.”
“And what if the Western world does not agree to the new peace plan?”
“Then we will kill the Prince and the West will have lost its opportunity to save the future King of England. Nobody could put any blame on you. It would simply be a matter that our intelligence had dried up and we suspect that one of our very brave agents has been killed in his efforts to try to rescue the Prince.”
“Can we rely on our brothers to carry out the mission?”
“We already have a forward HQ in Phuket and I will be sending a team of five men from our own special forces to supervise the mission. They are specialist in what they do. The mission will be successful.”
The President sat and thought. He couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his thin, moustached face as the plan planted itself in his mind. He didn’t need to hear any more details of the planned snatch or where the prisoner would be held. He liked the plan and he was already visualizing his new hero status amongst other world leaders and even amongst the world population. He would surely get the support he needed then to end his own civil war and segregate his people. The rebels would have the south eastern region. It was mostly desert anyway and, with a military demarcation zone enforced by the West, he could rule Syria the way his father did before him. The smile turned into a laugh. A loud raucous laugh and the President banged his hands on the wooden table in front of him.
“Ashour it is brilliant. I authorize the plan. Use whatever money and weapons that are needed. Just keep me updated. I think Syria has a future again!”
“We already have everything in place. I just have to make a phone call.”
~4~
The five men had been holed up in a safe house not far from the airport in Damascus for the last six days. They could see the airport from the window and commercial jets flew in low overhead every 20 minutes, rattling the windows, pots and pans. They all wore traditional Arabic dress and had spent their time watching TV, eating and playing cards. Their conversations were about football, food and women. They didn’t know how long they would be there. They just knew that they were waiting upon a phone call. They all knew it was going to be something ‘big’ and something that could change the course of the war in Syria , but nothing was ever spoken. Only two of the men amongst them knew the full details of the plan. All of these men were Syrian special forces and highly trained killers. They had the quiet confidence that trained killers have in their own abilities. If the call came this was just going to be another mission; an important mission that would help their motherland, but just another mission none the less. The house was basic. No decorations, no pictures, just essentials to cook and clean - a bathroom, a bedroom and the main room, which doubled as a kitchen, a door at the front and a door at the back. The five men sat on the floor of the main room. Four of them were playing cards. The fifth, Haadee, sat away from the others reading the Quran. A single ceiling fan whirled round overhead making a clicking sound with each rotation. The down blast from the fan did little to cool the hot air, but it did a slightly better job of dispersing the smoke from the hand roll-ups that the men were smoking. The men playing cards were:
Azeez (Arabic meaning ‘Servant of the most powerful’) was 28 years old and powerfully built. He was unshaven for several days and had a scar down his right cheek. It was from a knife wound three years ago. The man who inflicted the wound was killed in the fight. Azeez was the leader of the group. He was a career soldier, a quietly spoken man and a specialist in unarmed combat or with a knife.
Kabeer (Arabic meaning ‘Great’) was 34 years old, skinny and clean shaven. He wore glasses. He followed orders without question. He was also the cook for everyone and responsible for the smell of lamb curry that lingered in the house. He was a specialist with explosives.
Kahlam (Arabic meaning ‘Servant to Allah’) was 32 years old and second in command of the unit. He was an intelligent man who could always be relied upon to come up with an alternative plan when needed. He was a specialist in surveillance and a specialist with any firearm, a crack shot. Kahlam and Azeez were the only two men in the group who knew about the plan to kidnap Prince William.
Maaz (Arabic meaning ‘Brave man’) was 25 years old and another powerfully built man. He had a rugged complexion and staring eyes. He had cut off most of his right ear during a dare with a sword when he was 14 years old. But it made him look even tougher than he was and as he grew older he would tell people that he lost it in a fight with three men. He was aggressive in his manner and extreme in his views against the West. A specialist with heavy weapons and he could drive any vehicle, military or otherwise.
The fifth man was sitting away from the card players.
Haadee (Arabic meaning ‘The Guide’) was 37 years old. He was the quiet man of the group and spent a lot of time thinking and reading the Quran. He was the only married man in the group, a specialist sniper and mechanic. He als
o held a pilot’s license.
Kahlam scooped the coins and notes up with both hands.
“My lucky day” he laughed. “Who’s deal?”
Kabeer picked up the cards, shuffled the deck and dealt. The mobile phone on the floor next to Azeez rang. It was the theme tune from ‘The Simpsons’. Haadee looked up from the Quran and the four men playing cards stopped playing and looked towards their leader. Azeez picked up the mobile and put it to his ear.
“Salam” he said quietly into the phone. He listened without any movement, without any emotion and without any comments. After several moments he just said “Okay” and closed the phone. He looked back at the men looking at him and nodded. Haadee led the men in a prayer to Allah before they all showered, shaved and dressed in western style clothes; a smart casual look, just jeans and shirts. Their suitcases were stacked up against the wall in the bedroom. They were flying to Phuket, Thailand, as tourists. Their traditional Arabic clothes were left in a pile. A cleaner would come in and clean the house. There would be no trace that the men were ever there. A plain white mini bus pulled up outside the house to take them the short distance to the airport. They had separate seats spread out around the plane. It was an eight hour flight to Bangkok and then another hour and a half to fly onto Phuket. They flew out under false names and on forged Israeli passports. They didn’t speak to each other or even acknowledge each other during the long journey. It would be the following day before they arrived at their destination. Thailand was five hours in front of them in time zones. They all knew which hotel each had been designated and they all knew where they were going to meet up later that night. It was just seven days before HRH Prince William was due to arrive in Myanmar. Only Azeez and Kahlam knew the details of their secret mission.
Thai Shorts Page 18
