Arabian Storm (The Hunter Killer Series Book 5) by George Wallace (different ereaders .txt) 📕

Nabiin, the Prophet, sat in his new most-favored place, on the bridge wing of the Ocean Mystery, and watched the placid waters stretch reassuringly to the horizon. He made certain no one else saw any hint of concern on his face. After all, this was his homeland. These were his people, doing his bidding, just as many such followers had done since the very first day he left a lucrative position in the financial industry in Abu Dhabi to do Allah’s bidding. And Allah would assure the success of the world-changing events about to occur at Nabiin’s direction.

The pieces were perfectly aligning on the chessboard. The shattered remnants of the Chinese PLAN battlegroup were still struggling to reach relative safety, but that would only be at their quite vulnerable port in Djibouti. Nabiin toyed with the idea of attacking the hulks again and finally sinking them, but quickly rejected it. On the one hand, there was no reason to attack again. The damaged vessels might very well sink of their own accord in transit. And if they did reach Djibouti, they would surely rust away alongside the crowded pier before they would ever be fit for sea again. There was certainly no hope of repair before the upcoming events. It was also a fact that, after expending thousands of his unmanned aerial vehicles in the initial attack, Nabiin’s supply was running precipitously low. He might well have need for every one of them still in his arsenal. But the final determining factor in his decision was that it was not part of the final plan. The plan revealed to the Prophet by Allah himself.

No, they must not ad lib now. Allah had blessed the plan as it stood.

The next chess piece, the Iranian missile submarine, would soon be in place, on schedule and carrying its crucial payload. The vessel’s commander reported that they had successfully remained completely undetected. No one even suspected their presence. They would be able to complete their mission without problem. He did report some minor issues with the new submarine’s atmosphere, but it was under control and of no concern. The nuclear armed missiles she carried were, of course, key to providing the rain of fire prophesied in the End Days.

That left only one more key piece on the board. The Americans. Nabiin considered them to be little more than pawns. But useful pawns to his eventual victory.

It was time to prod them one more time, a provocation that would assure the haughty aggressors would take precipitous action. Another metaphor occurred to the Prophet. He would kick the hornet’s nest one more time. Then the Americans would be counted among the Ya’jooj and Ma’jooj, the vicious killers of all believers that would arise in the End Times.

But even with such glorious thoughts and even in the final stages of such a massive holy operation, more mundane things would need to be seen about first as final preparation. The Ocean Mystery would need to return to their hidden island base to safely refuel and restock. And to remove and deal with certain “cargo” that no longer held value to the plan’s success.

The tiny, desolate bit of rock had just appeared dead ahead, low on the western horizon. The sun was poised, as if awaiting their arrival, then ready to set spectacularly behind the granite pillar. The monolith slowly grew until the high, overhanging cliffs blotted out the cloudless sky. Men appeared from caves carved into the rock cliffs and ran out to handle the ship. Camouflage netting fell down over the Ocean Mystery even as the crew tied the ship to the rough, ramshackle pier. To any observer more than a few hundred meters away, the Ocean Mystery disappeared against the mountainside.

Darkness was not far away as the fuel lines snaked out of a cave and across the pier to fill the ship’s near-empty tanks with diesel fuel. Boxes and crates of food and supplies were manhandled aboard, piled high on the after deck to be stored later belowdecks.

At Nabiin’s order, the prisoners were marched from below to topside and then off the ship. Chas ben-Wabi, the United Nations representative, and the rest of the surviving crew blinked and shielded their eyes from the unaccustomed bright sunshine. But Yves Monagnad, the ship’s captain, merely closed his and looked up, allowing the wonderful sunlight to bathe his face. It seemed like months since he had last felt its warming rays. That was surely why it seemed to give him a tiny bit of hope that he might still survive this ordeal.

Nabiin watched all of this from his seat on the ship’s bridge. He turned to General Babak and ordered, “Farad, my old friend, you will stay behind this time. I need you to arrange for the disposal of our guests, now that we know we will no longer have any possible need for them. Then I need you to return to your duties in Yemen. Yours is the honor of the last major sign. You shall ignite the fire to come out of Yemen, the conflagration that will cause the Mahshar Al Qiy’amah, the Gathering to Judgment. Allah has truly blessed you.”

Babak genuflected before the Prophet, tears in his eyes as he spoke. “Alzaeim Almuqadas, Holy Leader, it shall be as you ordered. I will feed the infidels to the sharks and then depart for my sacred duties.”

Nabiin held up a hand, a slight smile behind his beard. “Do not be so hasty, Farad. Allow the infidels to see the glory of the coming of Allah first. They have earned that small bit of comfort before they burn. Allow them to see our victory before they die.”

Babak nodded. “I understand. It shall be as you order.”

He started to back away from his leader, but Nabiin was not yet finished.

“There is one final duty for you to attend to. When the last of the infidels and