Alexandria, Egypt
President Mohab Hussein finished giving the opening address as Wasain barged into the room.
“Mister President, I must speak to you immediately.”
Noticeably irritated, Hussein blurted out, “What is it that you would interrupt our meeting like this?”
“We’ve been attacked. Cairo has been destroyed. There is nothing left. I mean nothing.”
“Wasain, you’re making no sense.”
“Cairo has been completed destroyed. There is nothing left except the desert. No people, vehicles, animals or buildings! Even the great pyramids and the Sphinx are gone!” He was terrified and it showed in his face.
“Who attacked us? Who would commit such an atrocity?” the president yelled.
“I don’t know, sir. There have been no reports. I don’t know any more than I’ve told you.”
The entire room erupted as everyone talked at the same time. Angry shouts filled the room as the assembly tried to understand the great catastrophe and vent their feelings. Key cabinet members were confused and ranted for the need to strike back. But, the question was, to whom do we retaliate?
The president shook badly and his voice quivered as he ordered his staff to convene in another room. His mind swirled with confusion and trepidation. “Gentlemen, we’re not at war with anyone. I can’t see any reason for an attack against us. Our relations with all of our neighbors are at an all time high. Wasain, call General Omar and General Wasad and have them come here immediately. Thankfully, they’re in Alexandria.” He raised his arms in the air and prayed, “Allah, help us please. Who would do such a thing?”
General Omar, the head of the EIA (Egyptian Intelligence Agency), and General Wasad, the Egyptian Military Chief of Staff, were among the president’s most trusted advisors. The two men arrived at the meeting compound within thirty minutes.
Hussein paced the floor, wringing his hands as he awaited his advisors. As the generals walked in, he turned to meet them. “Allah be praised, you were not in Cairo. Do you have any idea what has happened?”
“We were attacked by the same weapon that destroyed Mogadishu and Beirut,” General Omar said. “Our sources tell me it’s a new weapon developed by the Movement of Allah, which is headed by Sheik Oganda. I believe you know him,” General Omar said.
The president nodded. “Where did they get such technology?”
“We believe they stole it from the Americans who were developing wormhole technology to aid in commercial space flight. The MOA have a Dr. Lieu and a large staff of physicists somewhere in the Waziristan Valley in Pakistan, where we think the weapon system is located. We don’t know its exact location, but we’re certain it’s there. Our sources tell us a General Sone is heading it up. I believe you know him, also?”
“Oh, yes, quite well. He was the one who blocked our nuclear deal with the North Koreans a few years back. I think I’m getting the picture. The sheik and the general are doing a bit of payback. Well, we can play the same game. General Wasad, how long will it take to organize our special forces group to do a HALO drop over the valley, and who would you recommend head it up?” The President asked.
“Sir, we can be ready in twelve hours, and I recommend Brigadier Wahab. He’s the best spec ops commander we have, and he’s intimately familiar with the Waziristan Valley. Should we notify the Pakistani officials?”
“No! All right, get the operation moving. Keep me and my staff closely informed. We will teach those bastards to mess with Egypt.”
Wasad turned and left to set up the attack.
“General Omar,” the President said, “make sure you keep on top of things and try to find out all the intelligence you can to help our forces. Contact the Pakistani Intelligence Agency. It’s going to be a rough go if we have to search the entire valley. Do not say anything about our plan.”
White House
Washington, D.C.
President Grant was stunned when his National Security Advisor told him about Cairo. He was convinced that eventually the MOA would expand their war and direct it towards the West. “Igor, stay here while I call President Hussein.”
“Mr. President, this is Taylor Grant. I just found out about the cowardly attack against your country. Are you okay?”
“Yes, thank you. The attack destroyed Cairo: all of our government offices, the police headquarters, military academy and all of the Army, Navy and Air Force headquarters. It devastated much of our military. We have no idea how many people lost their lives. Fortunately, we have enough military and intelligence forces left to maintain security.”
“Do you know who attacked you?”
“The MOA used a black hole weapon system. The same one used against Beirut and Mogadishu.”
“Mohab, do you have any idea where this weapon system is?”
“My Chief of Staff thinks it’s located somewhere in the Waziristan Valley in Pakistan. We don’t know exactly where. I will say we’re not going to take this laying down. I plan to launch an attack against the valley fortress within a few hours.”
“I wish you good hunting. Someone has to stop these maniacs. I think this is just the beginning. We stand ready to assist you, so please call me if we can help in any way.”
“If we’re not attacked again, I think we’ll be fine. It is going to take a lot of rebuilding. I just pray we can eliminate these nuts.”
“Good luck, Mohab.”
When they disconnected, the president called Secretary Robinette. “Felix, this is The President.”
“Good morning, sir.”
“I assume you know about Cairo?”
“I read the brief a few minutes ago. How horrible. If you want my opinion, the MOA are behind this and a black hole weapon was used.”
“That’s what the Egyptians think. That’s also why I’m calling you. I am convinced it’s only a matter of time before the MOA turns this weapon on us. What progress is there on a counter weapon?”
“I talked to Dr. Stevenson this morning, and he says they’re very close to a solution.”
“Felix, why can’t we just modify our wormhole system?”
“We could, sir, but it would take too long to rewrite the algorithms and modify the system field generators and such. Frankly, that was one of the first solutions proposed. The time line’s too long. Dr. Stevens says she has an answer that will be quick to implement, but has a bit more mathematical analysis and simulation work before she can complete it.”
“Keep me informed and tell them they must make this happen soon! I’m convinced these renegades are going to attack us. I want to know the details of the team’s solution as soon as possible. Stay on their ass and make sure they’re focused. Igor, Call General Holmes and tell him to formulate a backup strike strategy! I want a briefing from him tomorrow morning.”
“Right away, sir.”
Chapter 65
Special Ops Air Base
Alexandria, Egypt
General Wasab assigned Brigadier Husain Wahab to lead the attack on the Waziristan Valley. He had served in the Egyptian Special Forces his entire military career. He was one of the most highly regarded tactical commanders in the eastern world.
Wahab’s strike op plan started with a nighttime HALO (high altitude low open) drop from thirty thousand feet into the center of the Waziristan valley. From there, the scouts would fan out, recon the area and identify the most probable location of the facility. Once located, his snipers would take out the facility guards, and entry would be straightforward. If his scouts could capture an MOA operative, it would be a simple matter of “persuasion” to get the exact facility coordinates.
Wahab had lost many friends and relatives in the attack on Cairo, including both he and his wife’s parents and grandparents.
I can’t wait to kill Sone, he thought. I’m personally going to cut his vile penis off and stuff it in his mouth … just before I blow his brains out.
He reviewed his plan again. They would load the spec ops tactical c
raft (SOTC) at 1900 hours. The flight plan would emulate a standard international commercial flight. Once they approached Pakistani airspace, the craft would drop out of sub orbit to thirty thousand feet.
The altitude and flight plan would raise no suspicions, and would take them over the valley where they would do a HALO drop and initiate ground ops. He hoped the entire mission would not last more than a week. Maybe less if they were lucky.
He said goodbye to his wife and family that evening, as he had done many times before, and headed to the base to load up. The men were boarding the SOTC as he arrived. Many of his men had lost relatives and friends in the attack. Revenge gave them high motivation. Take off would be in one hour.
His squad leaders, a Colonel Susain and two Captains were working with the non-coms to check the loading invoices, and each man’s equipment as they boarded. The officers and non-coms saluted smartly as he approached.
“Good evening, Brigadier, how are you?” the Colonel asked with a smile.
Wahab returned the smile. I’m fortunate to have Susain with me. He has a lot of combat experience and is a smart and effective commander. “I’m fine Susain. How’s the loading going? Are there any problems or issues?”
“No, sir, everything’s in order. We’ve thoroughly briefed the men, so this should be a by-the-numbers mission.”
“I hope so. Allah willing, we’ll maintain the element of surprise. As soon as we’re on the ground, we’ll regroup then initiate recon. We need to capture an MOA operative, if possible, and get the info we need from him. That would sure cut our time looking for that facility.”
The brigadier’s phone rang. “Yes, this is Brigadier Wahab … speak to me.”
“Wahab, this is General Wasab. How are things going? Are we on schedule?”
“General, everything’s fine. We’re loading the last few men and equipments now. I expect take off in about twenty minutes.”
“Excellent, Wahab. May Allah go with you.”
“Thank you, General. I’ll report as soon as we’ve secured the facility.”
Wahab was the last to load. As he entered the SOTC, he turned and took one last look. Something he had always done for luck, or maybe just to say goodbye. He’d never been sure of his motive. This mission niggled him. For some reason he had a bad feeling about this operation. He couldn’t put his finger on the problem, but something bothered him. Perhaps like many soldiers, who had been through a lot of combat, he knew someday one of those bullets would have his name on it.
Spec Ops Flight 21.
When the SOTC reached the objective, the green light illuminated. Wahab turned and saluted his men, and then bailed out. Within one minute, all one hundred soldiers were in the air, sky diving into the op area.
A new moon and overcast sky would make the drop stealthy, and minimize detection. The bitter cold air at thirty thousand feet bit at Wahab’s face, and numbed his cheeks as he free fell towards the LZ. As he approached the ground, his heart pounded and his oxygen consumption increased rapidly. He pulled the ripcord, and prayed no one had spotted them.
Weapon Facility
Waziristan Valley, Pakistan
Olmid had positioned his men expertly. He checked his watch. According to the timetable, he expected to see the first spec ops soldiers in about two minutes — if their Intel had been accurate. He would let them land, and then give them a few minutes to regroup before he opened fire. This would be the perfect ambush. They would leave no one alive except, hopefully, their leader. He wanted Wahab to survive the initial assault, so he could welcome him personally. The two of them went way back, and he longed for a few minutes alone with Wahab before turning him over to Sone.
Overhead, the first chutes opened. They were coming right in to the reported LZ. He gave the hold your fire sign. More chutes came into sight. He waited.
Once the last man was down, he gave them fifteen minutes to regroup. His night vision viewer made it easy to see the activities. It appeared there were about a hundred. They quietly hid their parachutes — completely unaware they were being observed.
When the soldiers grouped together, Olmid raised his weapon and fired the first volley. His men opened fire simultaneously. The high caliber, crew served weapons sprayed three thousand rounds per minute over the kill area, and rocket assisted impulse grenades were expertly lobed into the group of totally surprised and confused soldiers.
Men screamed as the incoming barrage blew their bodies apart. The slaughter was sickening. Parts of torsos littered the kill zone, blood pouring out. Some lay with their brains spilled on the ground and intestines poured out. The few who returned fire were rapidly eliminated. The attack lasted five minutes — the results devastating.
One hundred of Egypt’s finest special ops soldiers lay dead or dying. It was kindred to the General George Custer’s seventh Calvary massacre by Sitting Bull at Little Big Horn in the 1800s. The groans and screams of the wounded pierced the night air.
Olmid got up from his position and approached the killing field. His men were checking each soldier. If he wasn’t dead, they slit his throat. He searched and finally found Wahab who was lying on the ground and bleeding badly from a shoulder wound.
Olmid bent down and picked Wahab’s face up so he could see who had done this to him, and his men.
“Wahab, you pig, do you recognize me?” Olmid said sarcastically — spitting in his face.
Wahab grimaced from the pain. “Olmid? You bastard, I thought I had killed you five years ago,” he said with great effort. “I’m sorry I didn’t, you pork eating son of a whore!”
Olmid fought back his rage. “You egotistical mother fucker. You left me for dead after you attacked my village and killed my wife, but your pathetic efforts failed. I swore someday I would kill you. Today is that day although you will not die so easily. General Sone wants you to be his guest. You wanted to see our facility and you shall … but you will never leave here alive. The general is going to cut your ugly head off, and I will laugh at you as he does it. I just hope you suffer greatly. Don’t worry the general is an expert at cutting pig’s heads off. He does it so nice and slow and painful. He loves to do it.”
He beat Wahab, viciously, until his eyes were swollen shut, his nose broken and his mouth bleeding from the loss of teeth. After he finished, he yelled at his lieutenant. “Pick this filthy dog up and tie him so he can’t move. We’ll take this pig back to the general. I’ll enjoy watching him die. I just wish I could kill him right now.”
Olmid then called Sone on his tactical mike. “Sir, the operation’s complete. We killed all of the Egyptian infidels and captured Brigadier Wahab. We’re bringing him back now.”
The general smiled and took a deep breath of satisfaction. “Make haste. I’m anxious to kill that mangy, flea-infested dog. He led the attack that killed my entire family. I will savior ending his life.”
Wahab was bleeding profusely and growing weaker by the minute. The pain was intense, and his captors were not sympathetic. Every time he moved, they kicked him. He fought the urge to cry out in pain — not about to let his captors have the satisfaction of knowing how badly he hurt. Images of his family flashed through his mind. He knew he would never see them again. He realized now, that niggling feeling he had just before they left was an omen of his impending fate.
Weapon Facility
Waziristan Valley, Pakistan
It took Olmid and his men two hours to get back. As they drove into the facility, the general met them in the compound yard. When the vehicles stopped, two men picked Wahab up and threw him head first at the Sone’s feet. The gravel scratched his face and ripped the skin open. The pain was severe and blood protruded out of each cut and scratch mark.
General Sone wore his best dress uniform, and his ceremonial sword hung from his belt. He savored this execution. “Put the putrid bastard on his knees so he can see my face,” he commanded.
“Well, Wahab,” Sone remarked, spitting on him. “Did you actually think you could attack
and destroy us? You and your people are as stupid as we thought. We knew every move you and your flunkies were making. We always know. It looks like Olmid had a little fun with you … huh?” He laughed loudly. “I think he actually improved your stinking looks. I want you to know that I enjoyed killing your family.
Sone kicked Wahab in the face, knocking the rest of his teeth out. “You dirty bastard!” he screamed. “You killed my family, and now I’m going to cut your ugly head off and feed your rotten body to the buzzards … after we rub you down with pig fat.”
Sone laughed wickedly and kicked Wahab in the stomach several times. Then, just to emphasize his point, he kicked him in the side, breaking several ribs. Wahab didn’t utter a sound. “Pick this filthy pig’s head up,” Sone ordered.
Wahab spat blood on Sone’s uniform. “You are a disgrace as a soldier and a poor excuse for a man,” he said painfully, yielding up the last of his strength.
“Maybe so, but I will be the one to end your mangy life. I’m going to cut your stinking head off. I hope it hurts as much as I will enjoy doing it. In fact, I’m going to use many, very-light chops, so it will hurt more. I want you to suffer and agonize as you die.”
Sone pulled his sword from its holder and with five slow, easy, well placed chops, separated Wahab’s head from his body. The head rolled several feet, still alive when it hit the ground. Sone laughed when he saw the eyes blink. He stomped the jerking body. Blood squirted from the neck. The general laughed hysterically and squealed with delight.
“I loved doing that. It makes me feel so good. Cut his tongue out, rub it with pig fat and stuff it back in his mouth. Then, take this piece of meat, rub it down with lard and dump it, without clothing, in a ravine so the buzzards can feed on it.”
Wanda Page 43
