CHAPTER THREE

Capetown, South Africa

Kamal Hassan and his bodyguards stood in front of the hangar as he watched the Cessna Citation S/II Business jet roll toward them. This part of the Capetown International Airport catered to the business jets that frequented the city.

Hassan was a short, plump man, dressed in an expensive suit with manicured fingernails and an expensive haircut. Despite the early morning, he seemed comfortable and cheerful, looking like a wealthy businessman waiting for his guests to deplane.

But although he was wealthy, most of his fortune came from smuggling contraband, drugs and weapons in and out of the country. He also was an information broker, with sources all across the continent. Deep at his core, however, Hassan was committed to the goal of the Islamic Caliphate and did everything he could to further their cause.

Hassan's chief bodyguard and enforcer stood behind and to his right, towering over his employer by more than half a foot. Wahid Tamrez had the look of a half-awake man, but few people could best the former Syrian Republican Guardsman in a fight. Despite his half-closed eyes, Tamrez was alert and ready, as was the rest of the bodyguard team.

Tamrez leaned forward and said to Hassan, "I don't like this, sir."

"Neither do I," Hassan replied. "But Colonel Riyad's orders were clear, and we must follow them."

The Citation, a twin-engine jet large enough to carry up to ten passengers, rolled to a stop near Hassan and his team. As the engines began shutting down, the Citation's door, located behind the cockpit, slowly opened out and down, deploying the stairs as it did so. As the engine noise died away, a pair of men in suits climbed out of the plane and took positions on either side of the door. Yasir Ilshu was the next man to emerge from the plane, dressed in a tailored suit. Behind him, three more men came out, also in suits. Hassan noticed that all of them were clean-shaven, in good physical shape, and looked all around, even up into the air.

Hassan held his arms out. "Kassem!" he said loudly in Arabic, using Ilshu's cover name. Ilshu smiled walked over to Hassan.

"It is good to see you again, my friend."

The two embraced like old friends. After breaking the hug, Hassan said in a normal conversation, "How was your trip?"

"Fair," Ilshu said, falling into the role of a businessman. There was no telling if the South Africans were watching them, so they played this charade.

"We should get going," Hassan said. "You can ride with me, and our associates can ride together. My servants should have lunch ready by the time we arrive, so I hope you brought an appetite!"

They walked to the four waiting vehicles, and Hassan, Ilshu and Tamrez got into the nicest of them, a luxury car with tinted windows, while the rest scattered to the other three. They rolled away from the business terminal at a fast clip.

Hassan waited until the convoy was on the road before he said, "What is wrong, my friend? Is the plan still on track?"

"It is," Ilshu said. "But the Colonel has sent me to tie up loose ends here."

A chill went through Hassan and he noticed Tamrez's shoulders tense. "What loose ends?"

"Horst Aswegen. The Colonel believes the Iranians will be direct with their questions."

Hassan relaxed. "I see."

"I'll need everything you have on the man, and plans for his house and offices."

"Aswegen is holed up in his office, along with the senior SeaStar staff, trying to ransom back the ship and its cargo. I doubt he's going to leave until that is done, short of the building catching on fire."

Ilshu nodded. "Good. I'll need the floor plans for the office."

"If you're going to eliminate loose ends, may I suggest that you destroy the company's cargo manifests database? Those records are the first thing authorities will seek when they try to unravel the disaster."

Ilshu looked at Hassan suspiciously. "Can't you do that?"

Hassan shook his head. "The SeaStar network is internal only, with no connection to any outside networks. The entire network will have to be destroyed, both at the office and the main warehouse."

Ilshu frowned. "I don't like the idea of splitting up my team."

"May I make a suggestion?" Hassan asked mildly.

"What?"

"Part of my job has been to cultivate new recruits to the cause. I have two dozen who I believe are ready to take their first steps on the road to holy war."

Ilshu frowned for a moment, then said, "Very well. If nothing else, they will make good cannon fodder."

Hassan sighed. "I hope it doesn't come down to that.”

"What reaction can we expect from the police?"

"Slow, but overwhelming. Mostly, the police here are corrupt or incompetent, but there are a few who are neither. It's the private security forces you have to worry about. SeaStar has a contract with one of the better security companies, but they also have contact within the white power fringe groups. My contacts say that Aswegen uses the white power gangs to watch his warehouses. However, if you can give me until this evening, I can arrange it so that both the police and the security companies are distracted."

Ilshu shot him a suspicious look. "Distracted? How?"

"Leave that to me, my friend."

Загрузка...