The Cup

CHAPTER 57

Rashid Jaffari stood on the bow of the Athena and looked out over the rolling surface of the Atlantic. So far it had been a smooth journey, except for squalls in the gulf as they'd left Turkey. Now the ship was more than halfway to America without running into any serious weather. At the moment it was sunny, but late October on the Atlantic Ocean meant that Rashid wore a heavy jacket and woolen watch cap against the cold and the wind.

The Athena was an old ship and slow, not long for the scrap yard. Streaks of rust ran down her sides. Her ancient engines struggled to push through the heavy swell. A serious storm could sink her. Her captain had been keeping an uneasy eye on the weather reports. It was late in the year, but hurricane season wasn't yet over.

For the first three days of the voyage Jaffari was seasick, unable to keep anything down. Then his equilibrium returned and the sickness left him. His mind was free to imagine what would happen when the bomb went off in the enemy city of Savannah.

He'd decided not to try and take the device inland. American customs officers could be efficient if they chose. Rashid had no illusions that the packaging around the bomb would stand up to close scrutiny, but a thorough customs inspection wouldn't take place until they were docked. Once in port, he would detonate the bomb.

Savannah was a critical hub for American commerce. Major rail, land, sea and air networks all came together in the city. With Savannah gone, American trade and shipping infrastructure would be crippled. The bomb would obliterate everything for a radius of several miles. Anything left would be covered with a lethal dose of plutonium radiation for a thousand years or more. For all practical purposes much of Georgia and the Southeast would cease to be livable.

Allah would be pleased.