Part 33 (1/2)

Kareem noticed his leader's eyes were red-rimmed and inflamed from his anger.

”What is it, my friend?” Kareem asked, his voice gentle and una.s.suming.

”My family's refinery at Al Basrah has been attacked by the infidels.”

His eyes looked up from the table to fix on Kareem's and Araman's. ”It has been almost completely destroyed.”

”Do they know who is responsible?” Kareem asked.

295.

Farrar sighed. ”They found several bodies, but they had no identification or national markings on them. They appear to be Anglos, probably Americans.””How about your family's home?” Araman asked. ”Didn't that devil Ben Raines threaten to destroy it also?”

Farrar glared at him. ”So far it has been left alone. My father has doubled the security around it and has it under constant air cover, but he is not sure that is enough. He has decided to move the family members to secret living quarters until this is over.”

”I heard you also mention something about our troops and equipment that were to be sent,” Araman said. ”Is there some problem with that too?”

Farrar slammed his hand down on the table, making Kareem and Araman jump.

”Yes. When my father attempted to wire payment for the equipment the Germans and the South Americans were going to sell us, the bank informed him all of the money from my account had been transferred to another account in a Swiss bank,” Farrar said in a low tone, as if he were too depressed to be angry any longer.

”Has he checked with the Swiss bank?” Kareem asked, knowing that Farrar did indeed have some other accounts at various banks in Switzerland.

”Yes. The bank denies all knowledge of where the money is. It was transferred into a new account set up in my name, and then almost immediately transferred out to another account in the Cayman Islands.”

”What does the bank in the Cayman Islands say about the account?” Araman asked.

Farrar shrugged, a defeated look on his face. ”They will, of course, say nothing. No amount of pressure from my father has been able to sway them.”

”How much did they steal?” Kareem asked, knowing Farrar had been financing their war against the Americans out of his own pocket.

296.

”Almost a billion and a half dollars,” Farrar answered, his voice hoa.r.s.e.

”A billion and a half?” Araman asked incredulously, thinking that if he had that much money he would have been more than content to live his life in indescribable luxury and leave the fighting of wars to less fortunate men.

”What about your father?” Kareem asked. ”Can he lend you the money to pay for the equipment against your future oil revenues?”

Farrar laughed, though the sound was more sad than mirthful. ”That's just it,” he said. ”They also took all of the money out of my father's account in Iraq. The family has no money left for war equipment.”

”What about his and your money in Switzerland?” Kareem asked.

Farrar shook his head. ”Father says that money will be needed to pay for the repairs to the refinery and he will not authorize me to use any of it for our war efforts here.”

”Your father was always against our plan to take over America,” Araman said bitterly.”Be careful how you speak of my father, Osama,” Farrar said dangerously.

”Your very life depends on showing my family the proper respect.”

”But Abdullah,” Araman protested, ”what will we do now? We have no more money to pay the troops or to buy supplies or ammunition.”

Farrar stroked his chin. ”As for the troops, now that they are here with no way to return home, they will fight without pay. They will have to forage for food and ammunition to keep fighting, or else they will die at the hands of the infidels,” he said. ”They have no other choice.”

”Then,” Kareem said, standing up and trying to look hopeful, ”we will just have to defeat the infidels with the troops we have and do without the hoped-for reinforcements.”

Farrar stood up also. He placed his hand on Kareem's 297.

shoulder and smiled, though it was clear to his friend that his heart was not in it.

”You are a good and true friend, Mustafa, and you are right. We will continue our battle against the infidels until it is clear we have no chance of winning.”

Osama bin Araman got to his feet, a fierce grin on his face, his teeth showing white against the dark brown of his skin. ”You are both mad,” he said, stepping around the table to stand next to them. ”But then, so am I. We will continue to fight and to die for Allah!”

298.

When Buddy Raines and the SEAL team finally made it to the sh.o.r.es of Kuwait, they pulled the Zodiac up on a beach where hundreds of families were bathing and lying in the sun.

As a friendly crowd gathered around the disheveled, sweating, exhausted men, Buddy held up his hands. ”I've got a really nice little boat here I'll trade for a ride to the city,” he said.

A potbellied man with a full beard pushed his way to the front of the crowd. He examined the boat and stared at the men with narrowed eyes. He pointed at the stack of Uzis in the bottom of the boat, and then in the direction of Iraq from whence they'd come.

”Have you been on a ... mission to our neighbor Iraq?” he asked.

Buddy looked at Stryker, not sure of how to answer. After a moment, he nodded his head slowly.

”And this mission, was it successful?” the man asked as the crowd hushed.

Again, Buddy nodded.

”Then, my friends, you may keep your fine boat. I will take you to the city-no charge!” he said laughing, causing the entire crowd to break out into cheers.299 When Buddy and the SEALs arrived at the airport where they'd left the helicopters, they were met at the gate by the general in charge and the oil minister Buddy had dealt with before.

”Ah, Mr. Raines,” the oil minister said, his face frowning. ”So nice you could join us again. We've been worried about you since you didn't return after your helicopter ride.”

”Uh ...” Buddy said. ”We, uh, decided to take a ride on the Gulf and kinda got lost.”

”Yeah,” Stryker said, his lips turned up in a half grin, ”we were lucky to find our way back at all.”

”Have my men left yet?” Buddy asked while some soldiers loaded the Zodiac onto a truck and he and the team were escorted to a large SUV for the ride back to the base headquarters.

”No,” the oil minister said. ”They've been killing time making unnecessary adjustments to the helicopters until you could return.”

Buddy tried to suppress a smile. The wily old minister had seen through their plan from the beginning.

”In fact, I've just been informed,” the minister continued, ”that there was a terrible explosion at one of the refineries in neighboring Iraq while you were gone.”

”Is that so?” Buddy asked, wondering just how much trouble he was in.

”Mr. Raines,” the minister said severely, looking over the back of his seat at the team, ”I am not a fool, and I resent being used in this way so you could mount a strike against the Farrar family.”

Buddy opened his mouth to speak, but the minister held up his hand. ”In fact, I plan to file a formal complaint with the United Nations about your conduct in this affair.”