The Ghost of Flight 666

CHAPTER 2: Hook, Line and Sinker

For the next few days Abdullereda spent a great deal of time with his new friends and Khallida. He found that he could pour his heart out to the Arab, who had heard so many stories like his that Khallida’s empathy was like a warm comforting blanket around the shoulders of a shipwrecked man.

He read Hussein’s need and offered the solution. “My friend, your life has been one of materialistic debauchery; it’s meant nothing to the people you love and it has done nothing to celebrate the glory of Allah. What has it been worth?”

“Nothing,” Hussein admitted. “My whole life has meant nothing.”

“We cannot let it end that way,” Khallida told him. “Look at me. I too have suffered, but Allah is not finished with me. I cannot go to paradise while he still has use for me. Therefore I persevere. I will continue the fight as long as Allah wills it. However, you are a fortunate man, very fortunate.”

“How so, I’m miserable, and I see no way to redeem myself in the eyes of my family, most especially my son,” Abdullereda complained. “It is too late for me!”

“It is never too late in the eyes of Allah, who can forgive all, but you must serve him,” Khallida told the wretch emphatically. “You know who I represent do you not? I do the holy work for al Zawahiri and Al Qaeda. We are always looking for men like you; men who have lost their way but seek the path of holy redemption.”

“I do seek that path,” Abdullereda admitted. “I cannot continue the way I am. It has been a nightmare; there is not enough alcohol, there are not enough women to fill the void in my heart. Yet I have done such terrible things.”

“Terrible sins require a great holy act to reconcile them; that is why I say you are such a fortunate man,” Khallida told Hussein, placing his good hand on the airline pilot’s shoulder. “I have just such an act that will set you above even the martyrs of Nine-Eleven!”

Abdullereda looked up and his eyes glistened. “A martyrdom operation; yes, my son would respect that. What desire have I for the material things in this world anyway?”

“This is not just any martyrdom operation; it is a stake in the heart of Zion!” Khallida said fervently. “You now have a chance to redeem yourself in the eyes of your son, your family and to Allah. You have a chance to go down as one of the founding martyrs of the Caliphate, a name remembered through all history. Will you seize that chance?”

“I will; I must!” Abdullereda said forcefully.

“Excellent, then we may move forward on the operation?”

“Absolutely, I am eager to be of service,” he replied.

One of Khallida’s men laid an aeronautical chart on the table. It was of Southeast Asia and the Indian Ocean. A small red circle had been drawn around Kuala Lumpur, Hussein’s home base. Another red circle was drawn around Beijing, China. “This is your normal route is it not?” Khallida asked. “You can fly this whenever you wish?”

“Absolutely!”

“Good, now, what other airports are within range with the fuel you carry, can you tell me?”

“Certainly,” Hussein said, taking the proffered pen. He drew an arc headed west and then south, stopping abeam Australia in the great southern ocean. “This is the range of the A380 with the fuel load we carry to Beijing. As you can see we can go anywhere within the circle, from Pakistan, the Chagos Archipelago in the Indian Ocean and south to Indonesia — anywhere.”

“You’re certain the aircraft can do that,” Khallida asked, shaking his scarred head. To emphasize his point he gestured with his burned right hand. “We need the aircraft to be seen turning west and then south. The assumed crash site must be in the deep south around Australia to throw the capitalists off the track.”

“Trust me the A380 can do it without thinking about it,” Abdullereda said fervently, nervously, as if applying for a job interview. In effect, he was. “The Westerners may be decadent but they build good airplanes. The A380 is a beautiful aircraft.”

“Are you certain you can do it?” Khallida said sternly, touching the man’s chest with his permanently frozen finger.

Abdullereda shuddered involuntarily. “Of course,” he gasped, glancing over at the Al Qaeda guerillas Khallida brought with him. “I’ve been doing this for twenty years.”

“That is not what I meant,” he said, the normal half of his face grimacing but the burned half staying flat and expressionless, which made Abdullereda even more uncomfortable. “I do not question whether you can fly the airplane. Abdullereda, you must understand that phase one of the operation involves hijacking this aircraft for our uses. That means you will pilot the aircraft and fly the profile; however, we cannot afford to take a chance that your Malaysian crew or the passengers will interfere.”

“What could they do? I will be locked on the flight deck. The passengers and flight attendants can do nothing but go where I take them.”

“Unfortunately, experience taught us otherwise. The harsh lessons of Nine-Eleven were clear: the passengers of Flight 93 interfering with the mission to destroy the American capital; and a single pilot, the CIA’s Crusader, killing our entire team and saving the American White House. Yes we have learned from those hard lessons. Allah does not accept arrogance or complacency. The passengers and crew must die.”

“I am a pilot; I am unfortunately not a fighter,” Abdullereda admitted humbly.

“Not to worry,” Khallida said with a grotesque grin. He took out a cigarette and lit it, looking over to one of his men. “You will have help. This is Muhammad. He has recently come from Iraq; he even has his own video,” Khallida chuckled, leaning toward the pilot and adding, “Muhammad was not the lackey standing behind the executioner yelling Allahu Akbar! No, he has blood on his hands and plenty of it.” Khallida looked at the pilot as if gauging his courage, taking a drag from his cigarette, before saying, “We will have three brothers there to help you — one is Muhammad, and the other two are Iranians.”

“Iranians — Shia?” Abdullereda said with surprise.

“This is a new era of cooperation,” Khallida told him, although his tone held reservations. “A new Caliphate is coming; a new age is coming. This is the first step in that new age. The Iranians are supplying more than muscle in this operation. We must be meant to work with them for we cannot achieve our goal without their aid. We are supplying the aircraft and pilot; they are supplying the cargo.”

“Very well. Will they be passengers; how do I make contact with them?”

“The Iranians will be passengers. Muhammad will be travelling as a replacement pilot to Beijing, you pilots have a special term for that, what’s the word?”

“Deadheading,” Abdullereda said flatly.

“How appropriate,” Khallida nodded. He turned back to the map and continued. “The three brothers will help you take the aircraft.”

Abdullereda plucked up his courage, trying to be helpful, and pointed to a cross-hatched line over the ocean. “We transition between these Air Traffic Control Zones here, between Malaysia and Vietnam. Sometimes the High frequency radios are hard to understand. If we take the aircraft here, in the transition area, it will cause confusion and delay in Air Traffic Control.”

“Excellent; that will keep the Westerners from realizing that something is wrong with their beautiful aircraft.” Khallida pointed to the Indian Ocean. “We have given you the locations of multiple airfields; you will practice them. Specifically, you will ensure that your computer at home shows that you practiced them. It is part of our deception plan,” Khallida paused and shrugged. “We too have learned from the Americans. If you wish to strike them you must not look in that place; then you must give them a reason to look elsewhere.”

“Where do you want me to land?” Abdullereda said.

“Here!” Khallida circled an airport in Indonesia.

“But that’s a very busy airport,” Abdullereda argued. “We can’t avoid their radar, and even if we could enter their airspace undetected there is absolutely no chance we could land there without the controllers knowing about it!”

“Of course they’ll know,” Khallida smiled.

“You mean they are in on it?”

“No, that would put far too many people in the loop, so to speak,” Khallida chuckled dryly. “They don’t need to know the particulars, they simply must be told what to do. What you do not appreciate, Abdullereda, is that Indonesia is the largest Muslim nation in the world. It takes very little persuasion to get a few dozen people to ignore a single Malaysian A380 coming into the airport; we simply talk to them.”

“What do you say?” Abdullereda stammered.

Khallida shrugged, and said, “We offer them money of course, along with the opportunity to follow the will of Allah. For those who are still troubled we furnish them a helpful visit from some of our more zealous holy warriors; a visit that will affect their entire families. That way they understand where they fit in the scheme of things.”

“I understand,” Abdullereda swallowed, sweating at the thought that he too had a family and now, like it or not, they were inextricably bound by his choice.

“Good!” Khallida smiled, patting him on the back. “Don’t worry about the airport. The controllers will be expecting you. Be assured we will have our people in every facet of the Air Traffic Control System. The people you will be talking to will be our people; their schedules will be set up for the operation. Anyone else will have been spoken to already; they will not interfere. So play your video games and leave the rest to us.”

“When will the operation take place?” the captain said nervously.

“That you do not need to know,” the Al Qaeda boss replied firmly. “You will know when to implement the plan when Muhammad shows up for your flight.” He handed the captain an envelope. “Give yourself another two weeks of vacation before going back on duty. Here is the flight plan. You need not ask any questions. You simply need to be able to fly it, understood?”

“Understood.”

“Good, now I must leave Indonesia for a few days to attend a very important meeting. This operation will encompass many of our active groups, not just Al Qaeda and Iran, but even the upstarts in Syria and Iraq, ISIS,” he said soberly. “All of our organizations are preparing the way for a greater entity; one that will wipe away the stain of Zion and Christianity throughout the world!”

“Allahu Akbar!”