Bart shrugged. "I don't know, Jackie. As far as my government is concerned, about all they could tell us of any interest is where they obtained the plutonium they used in their initial oil rig mines."

She nodded. "Yeah, and I'll bet you dollars to donuts none of these lower-level guys know d.i.c.k about that."

"I agree. For that kind of information, we're going to have to go to the original source, this El Farrar or one of his top lieutenants."

She frowned. "I just hope the b.a.s.t.a.r.d isn't in Afghanistan or some such G.o.dforsaken place. It'd be h.e.l.l trying to roust him out of there."

"Why don't you check in with General Raines? Maybe he has some intel on El Farrar's current location."

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"Good idea. I need to call him and tell him we're all clear here anyway."

Jackie went into the communications room and had the radio officer put in a call to the SUSA headquarters in Tehran. After a few moments, BenRaines was on the line.

"h.e.l.lo, Jackie," Ben said. "What's your situation?"

"A-l, Ben. We've taken the city of Riyadh and we've cleared the terrorists out of the oil fields. There are still some conventional mines and b.o.o.by traps hooked up to the rigs, but I'll have my explosives guys go over the field with a fine-tooth comb tomorrow at first light and clean them out."

"Excellent, Jackie. We're in about the same situation here, but at least the major threat to the world's oil supply has been averted."

"Ben, I do have a couple of questions for you."

"Shoot."

"First of all, what do you want us to do with our prisoners? We've got a few thousand men here who are too dangerous to just release into the country."

She heard a low chuckle come over the air. "My first thought would be to turn them over to the Saudi royal family. They're not gonna be too happy with a group of men who tried to take their oil revenues away."

"But Ben, you know what they'll do. They'll have a ma.s.s beheading and kill every one of the poor sons of b.i.t.c.hes."

"I know, and that's probably what needs to be done. These men came a long way to impose their will on the rest of the world, and I don't think if we show mercy and 284.

let them go home, they're gonna go back to herding sheep and goats and be good little boys."

"You're right, Ben, but it still goes against my grain to kill prisoners."

"Mine too, Jackie, but we can't be responsible for what other sovereign nations do with their prisoners."

"Okay. I was just talking with Commander Bartholomew Wiley-Smeyth, and he said his government would very much like to find out where this El Farrar got the plutonium he used."

"That will be the first question I ask him when I see him," Ben said in a low, dangerous voice.

"You have any idea where he is?" Jackie asked.

"Not at the present, but I've got Mike Post in Intel working on it."

"Okay, Ben. I'll check back after I've gotten the prisoners taken care of."

"Roger, Jackie."

"And Ben."

"Yeah?""I'd very much appreciate being in on the op when you go after El Farrar."

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Jackie."

Jackie told Bart what Ben had said, and then went to see to the disposition of the prisoners. After placing a call to the royal palace and being a.s.sured that the Saudi royal family would indeed take possession of the prisoners the first thing in the morning, Jackie went to take a look at them for herself.

The prisoners had been placed in a huge arena that Jackie was told had been used for sheep and goat auctions.

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She and Bart stood in the stands, looking at the prisoners as they milled around the dirt floor of the arena.

"A pretty dangerous-looking lot," Bart observed.

"Yeah, but I still wish there were something else we could do other than turn them over to be executed," Jackie said.

As she spoke, her eyes fell on a soldier dressed in an officer's uniform. He looked a cut above the others, both in intelligence and demeanor.

"Isn't that the men who arranged for the men in the oil field to surrender?" Jackie asked, pointing Sohail Shaeen out to Bart.

"Why, yes, I think it is," Bart replied.

She glanced at Bart. "You know, he did us an enormous favor by getting those men to give themselves up without destroying the oil rigs," she said.

Bart smiled down at her. "You want to save him, don't you?" he asked.

"I think it'd be the right thing to do," Jackie replied.

"Then, by all means," Bart said, waving his hand in front of her, "be my guest."

Jackie told a nearby guard to have Shaeen brought to her office in the headquarters building.

Sohail Shaeen stood at attention in front of Jackie's desk, his eyes averted from the infidel woman.

"Your name?" Jackie asked.

"Lieutenant Sohail Shaeen," he replied, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"Do you know what is going to happen to your fellow soldiers, Lieutenant Shaeen?"

He shrugged. "We will be held a while and then you286 will send us home. That is the way it has always been with you infidels."

Jackie shook her head. "Not this time, Lieutenant."

The tone of her voice finally made him look at her.

"This time, we're turning you over to the imperial guards of the Saudi royal family here in Saudi. The men in Iran will be turned over to the government troops there."

"But they will surely execute us," Shaeen said, his eyes wide.

"That'd be my guess, Lieutenant."

Shaeen straightened his back and firmed his lips. "Is that all?" he asked, ready to return to join his men.

"Lieutenant, you did us a good deed when you got your men to surrender without a fight. If you will make me a promise never to take up arms again, I will see to it that you are given a chance to return to your home."

"Hah!" he said, a look of derision on his face. "Why would you believe me even if I agreed to say that?"

"Are you a religious man, Lieutenant?"

"I am a devout Muslim!" he answered.

"And doesn't Islam teach that it is a sin to lie?" she asked.

"Yes, certainly."

"Then, if you give me your word, I will let you go free."

As Shaeen thought about her offer, a vision of his wife and two young children back in Pakistan flashed into his mind.

"Then I give you my word," he said.

287 FORTY.

Abdullah El Farrar was furious, and he was making no effort to conceal the fact from the men with him in Dha-hran. Muhammad Atwa was in his office, a fine sheen of sweat on his face, worrying that El Farrar would take out his anger on him.

El Farrar had the radioman in front of his desk, and he was grilling him unmercifully.

"Do you mean to tell me that you cannot establish contact with either Jamal Ahmed or Haji Kuchkool?" he asked, his face a mask of anger and disbelief.

"Yes, sir," Omar Othman, the unfortunate man in charge of communications, replied. "I was in contact with both of them last evening, and they were about to proceed with attacks on Tehran and Riyadh. They informed me they would be back in touch once they had managed to retake the cities back from the infidel soldiers.""And you have heard nothing since last night?"

"No, sir. The last message from each of them indicated they had control of the oil fields and were about to attack the cities. In fact, Commander Ahmed indicated his men were already in the oil fields and were in the process of mining the oil rigs with explosives."

"What about Commander Kuchkool?"

"He said that his men had driven the infidels out of 288.

the oil fields, but because they'd left the fields mined with traps, he was going to take the city and then return to the oil fields at first light to remove the infidels' mines and then replace them with his own."

"Then why haven't we heard from them?" El Farrar asked, slamming his hand down on his desk.

Othman shrugged. "I do not know, sir. I have been at the radio continuously since the last messages were received, and I have tried to call them both several times. I have gotten no answers to any of my calls."

El Farrar turned his attention to Atwa. "What do you think, Muhammad?"

Atwa hesitated. He hated to tell El Farrar what he really thought, but he had to say something. "There can be several explanations for the lapse in communications, my leader," he answered diplomatically. "The battles for the city might still be going on and the commanders could be too busy to use the radio, or their radios may have been damaged in the battle and they have no way to fix them until the battles are over and the cities are secured."

"Do you think that is a possibility, Omar?" El Farrar asked.

Omar Othman hesitated. "I do not think so, sir. Each of the armies had several backup radios with them. It would be extremely unlikely that all would be so damaged they could not place a call."

El Farrar waved a hand at Othman. "That is all, Omar. Stay by your radio and notify me immediately if there is any word."

"Yes, sir," Othman replied, and he hurriedly left the room to return to his post.

El Farrar turned to stare at Atwa. "There is one other possibility you neglected to mention, Muhammad."

"Oh?"

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"Perhaps both of my commanders have failed in their attempts to take the cities."

"But sir," Atwa said, "surely that is not possible. Our information wasthat the infidels had very minimal forces in the regions. How could they possibly defeat over twenty thousand men armed with the latest weapons and equipment?"

"You forget, Muhammad. We are up against the devil himself, Ben Raines.

I would put nothing past him, even the seemingly impossible."

"But just for the sake of argument," Atwa said, rubbing his beard with his right hand as he thought, "if we have lost this war and our armies have been defeated, what are we going to do?"

"One thing is for sure," El Farrar said. "We do not dare to return to Afghanistan or even to our previous homes. The men and families who backed us in this endeavor will not be happy to see us if we have lost the war."

"What about the United States?" Atwa asked. "Do you think President Osterman would give us sanctuary?"

El Farrar laughed bitterly. "If we lose this war, the president will pretend she has never heard of us, Muhammad." He shook his head. "No, I think we had better think of someplace else to retire to if the news is as bad as we fear."

"But who would take us in with the entire world searching for us?" Atwa asked.

El Farrar didn't answer. He was already trying to figure out if the money he'd held back out of the funds his backers had provided was going to be enough to bribe some country's leaders into giving him shelter. He looked at Atwa out of the corner of his eyes. One thing was certain.

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It was not nearly enough for two men, so Atwa was going to be left behind if he decided to make a run for it.

Ben was in the process of arranging for the wounded, including Jersey and Buddy, to be airlifted to Kuwait City in one of the C-14s when he was notified that Mike Post was on the radio wishing to speak to him.

He went into the communications room and took the microphone from Corrie.

"Ben Raines here," he said.