The Faithful, North African and Middle Eastern Islamic nations, are plotting to seize the oil resources of the Middle East. By controlling the earth's oil and its major trade routes, they plan to bring the world to its knees. Then, when the entire world is kneeling, the Faithful of Allah will read to them from the Koran, preaching the message of Islam, the True Faith. The Faithful will stop at nothing to achieve their goal. But how far will they go? And how many lives will it cost?

2 Early Moves

2.2 Morocco

2.5.1 Cabinet Room

The Prime Minister of Morocco shifted uneasily in his soft, high-backed western-style chair. It was the kind he’d gotten used to when he’d lived in America, first as a student, and later as the military attaché. 'Americans were always good at creature comforts,' he thought.

As the meeting droned on the PM considered his council. To his right were his military leaders, the men who actually controlled Morocco. They liked their rank, power and position. They liked their pretty, but expensive toys. Although they loved to use them, none of them wanted to see their playthings destroyed.

To his left were the scions of the old, wealthy families. Each stood four-square behind the maintenance of the status quo. They had profited when the Germans arrived World War II. Their profits soared when the Americans invaded to drive the Germans out. After the war, they developed powerful trading blocs with America, and learned to lobby and to extract beneficial agreements from the naive Yankees. After the cold war, they continued using American influence to close deals throughout the world, acting as brokers for them throughout North Africa. The last thing in the world they wanted to do was to bite the hand that fed them.

At the far end of the table were the dangerous ones. They called themselves The Faithful. However, they were actually religious zealots, who wanted to remold the world in Allah’s name.

He wondered why the zealots called Americans those awful names. He had never met an American "devil", for instance. It was true that most Americans were infidels, but not all of them. He had been in beautiful mosques in New York, Chicago and Los Angeles that had been filled with the faithful. Rather than calling Americans infidels, he preferred to call them Unbelievers.

Furthermore, he knew that Americans were neither weak nor soft. Americans were a garrulous, fun-loving and happy people who wanted everyone in the world to love them. He had seen their great cities, their industrial might, their fleets, and air forces. He had trained for two years with their army and knew that they could crush Morocco in a matter of days. 'The best course for Morocco,' he decided, 'is, as the Americans say, to play both sides against the middle.'

The Imam was coming to the end of his prepared text. "While we sit here debating, the infidel, Yankee dogs approach our coasts intent upon spreading their unclean and unjust rule throughout Allah’s Kingdom on Earth. We must put an end to them, and Allah, in his wisdom, has shown us the way. We shall hold the Straits against them. We shall not let them pass! Destroy the Infidels while they are in our grasp!"

As the Imam’s strident words died away, the Prime Minister looked at the faces of those gathered around him. The call to arms had been effective, and even the most ardent doves were wavering. It was time to bring them all back to their senses. "Allah be praised, and his prophet, Mohammed. We have listened attentively to the Imam, and we have much to consider. We are an ancient people, so let us look into history so that we may judge what is happening now with the clarity that comes from Allah’s knowledge.

"Two hundred years ago, we controlled the Straits of Tangier. We demanded and received payment from all who would pass. The English, the French, the Spanish and all others paid us for the right to use the Straits. Then, came the Americans with the doctrine they called Freedom of the Seas. We laughed at them, seized their vessels and demanded ransom. Instead, they sent their fleet against us. Then, they sent another and another, until we were conquered.

"All other nations bent to our will, but the new American country would not. Does this sound to you like a weak country?

"When the Americans were victorious, what did they do? Did they send troops to occupy Allah’s lands? No, their fleets went back across the sea, and instead, we were flooded with opportunities to trade with them." He looked directly at the wealthy scions gathered near him. "Many of our people began trading with the upstart Americans. Did we prosper? Were the Americans dishonest? Did we not strike hard bargains with them that were always in our favor?

"Ninety ago, the Germans invaded our lands and those of our neighbors. Which of all the foreigners came to our rescue? The Americans! Suddenly, out of the seas, five hundred thousands of Americans arrived. Did they despoil our women or desecrate our holy places? No! They were meek and respectful of our customs and our ways. When they had done the Holy Work of driving the Germans out of Allah’s Kingdom on Earth, what did they do? They left! Once again, we traded with them on even a larger scale. And, our trade with them was prosperous.

"Fifty years ago, the Americans went to Arabia, defeated the Iraqis in just one hundred hours, and conquered all of the lands up to the Tigris River. And, what did they do? They came in honor, fought honorably, and, when they had done what they said they would do, they left. Neither the Saudis, the Kuwaitis, nor even the Iraqis were dishonored in any way by any American. And once again, all they asked in return was trade.

“Thirty years ago, the Iraqis pulled the tiger’s tale, daring the Americans to invade. It just a matter of days, the Americans conquered the entire country. They hunted down Hussein and executed him. But, did they dishonor the Iraqis? Did they despoil their lands, their heritage or their people? Did they attack the mosques or defile them in any way? No! They demanded a new government, installed it and then left. Since then, they have only asked to continue to trade throughout those ancient lands.

"I have heard the stories from my father and my grandfather, as all of you have heard them. Many people have thought the Americans to be weak and soft. All of them were easily defeated. Many accused the Americans of deceit and dishonor. Yet, when we investigated these accusations, or when we ourselves have dealt with them, we found them to be a people of great honesty, sometimes to their own detriment.

"I have seen their great cities, their mighty factories, their mountains and rivers. I have lived among them for many years. I say this before Allah, and ask not for forgiveness: The Americans are worthy friends, even if most of them are Unbelievers. I will also say this. If we go to war with the Americans, they will destroy us. In their hearts, they will weep at the destruction they will have done. But, they will be pitiless while they are doing it.

"We must not attack the Americans, nor can we permit our lands to be used by those who would attack the Americans. Yet, this does not mean that we cannot work for the Kingdom of Allah on Earth. The Kingdom of Allah lives wherever the Faithful live. And, the Faithful live here in the land of the Moors. We are the Faithful, and we attest to Allah’s great promise every day in our own lives. Our deaths would only delay the day when Allah’s will is acknowledged throughout the world. For it will be through our friendship and our trade with the Americans that we will be able to convince them that Allah is great, Allah is good, and that Allah’s teachings were revealed through his prophet, Mohammed. In this way they will find the true path to heavenly bliss."

The military leaders seemed to sigh, almost visibly, with relief. Like him, all of them had been trained in the West, and most in America. They knew, first hand, that what he had said about America’s sheer military power was true, and, if anything, was an understatement. The representatives of the wealthy smiled outwardly, contemptuous of the Imams’ frowns. War with America would be a disaster to them and their families. Only the Imams were dissatisfied, but the President knew that he could not convince them no matter how hard he tried.

The vote was taken, and the Prime Minister’s plan carried by a nine to four margin. Morocco would sing Allah’s praises from all the high places in the world. But, they would not fall into the trap which England, Mexico, Spain, Italy, Germany, Japan and Iraq had fallen.

2.5.1 Ksar-es-Seghir

The vote had gone as the Imams had expected. The weak-kneed politicians and the boot-licking military had decided not to attack the Americans. But, as it said in the Book of Swords, Allah is the greatest plotter. Allah’s will would be done. They would drag the government into the Jihad.

It was a simple matter to find the Faithful. The Imams knew them all. They knew who could be trusted and who could not. In the military bases that surrounded the great port of Tangier, there were many. Only one was needed.

Major Ibram Sultouni was one of the Faithful. He commanded a battalion of the coastal defense system near Ksar-es-Seghir, where the Straits of Gibraltar narrowed to 30 kilometers. His batteries included heavy 200-mm guns, anti-aircraft missiles, and anti-ship missiles designed to defeat any attempt at invasion. The big, radar-directed guns were dug deeply into the impregnable 800-meter cliffs. Connecting tunnels led to the missile emplacements and their radars. From those sheer walls of rock, Ibram could clearly see the American fleet approaching.

Ibram removed himself to his command post where he could survey the scene below him with his hidden radars and powerful optical periscopes. The electronic screens showed the contempt that the Americans felt for Allah. They paraded themselves, as though they were on a promenade. They flaunted their power in Allah’s face, defying the Faithful, and defiling the Holy Lands. It would but take one shot to bring them down! To bring them all down!

He walked quietly to a console and pressed a few buttons. One missile had just been activated; one French missile. It was only appropriate that the weapons from one infidel should be shot at another.

Deep in the mountain below, a red light flickered on a control panel, and a youthful servant of Allah turned his key in the lock. A large blast door moved into the tunnel towards him, and then to the side. The missile carriage moved forward with an electric whine, stopped, and clamped into place. The missile was ready.

Above, in the command post, Ibram watched the fleet edge closer. His machines told him that they were traveling at nearly thirty knots, intent upon running past him before he could shoot. But, even at those speeds, they would be within the range of his weapons for over two hours. They could not possibly escape.

They might evade his missile. Those devils had secrets that they kept to themselves. In the aftermath of the destruction their revenge would inflict upon his beloved land, there would be war. There would be retribution! Allah’s will would be done!

Oh, yes, he saw those little dots floating above the American fleet. Many powerful aircraft were in the skies, but his missile was too fast for them. When they had seen the destruction of their own ship, they would fly south in anger. They would strike military targets, but civilians would also die.

The Imam had told him that there would be a great mourning for them. From this mourning would come the uprising. And, from that uprising would come the Kingdom of Allah on Earth. And he, Ibram Sultouni, would have been most responsible for its coming. He would be a hero to his people and to all the Faithful. He would sit in the high counsels, listen to the elders, read the Koran, and live in peace. When he died, he would live in bliss, and the infidels would serve him forever.

Ah! There! Twenty-five kilometers to the American carrier. At twenty-five hundred kilometers per hour, his missile would take only thirty-six seconds to reach the American flagship. Then, three hundred kilos of high explosives would burst inside the Infidel’s monster of the sea. Petrol, bombs and rockets would explode in the confined areas of the ship, ripping it apart.

The radar lock was as good as it would ever be. The huge ship was a gigantic reflector of millimeter-band energy. Ibram mashed a button, locking the missile’s guidance to the radar and the guidance radar to the center of the hull, ten meters above the sea.

Down in the tunnel, the siren wailed, warning the missile’s crew to evacuate before the rocket engine fired. Quickly, both of the men jumped into their blast-proof control compartment and sealed the hatch. Each of them pressed a button placed on opposite sides of the central console, a design meant to ensure that one man couldn’t fire the savage weapon by himself.

A great plume of white smoke filled the tunnel. The power of the rocket engine shook the cavern. The two missileers wailed in fear, shouting Allah’s name.

The engine of destruction accelerated from the cliff’s face, unmindful of its fate, determined on destruction.