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.“Let me make one thing clear,” one of the men said.His Iraqi accent was very strong.“We have had experience in breaking men who thought they could not be broken, for everyone breaks eventually.We will record everything you tell us and verify it.If you decide to lie to us, we will find out about it and hurt you.Do you understand me?”Mushad nodded desperately, unable to speak.“Excellent,” the second interrogator said.“If you cooperate with us, you will eventually be released back to your family and your normal life.If you refuse to cooperate.well, trust me, there is always room for one more in the mass graves.”The first interrogator leaned forward.“Now,” he said.“Tell us everything you know about the defenders of Mecca.”***Colonel Abdul Al-Sultan scowled as he looked down at the map.Unlike most of the officers appointed to the defence of Mecca, he did have a fairly complete military education, with time spent in training centres in America and Britain.He even had time spent in Iraq, openly with American forces and covertly with some of the Sunni resistance fighters who had opposed the American plan for their country.Unfortunately, he was not in sole command of the defence of Mecca.The Saudi Government had appointed a council of learned men to lead the defence and he was supposed to take their orders.It would have helped if the council had included men skilled in the art of war.Mecca and Medina were defended heavily, but not all of the defenders could be trusted to follow orders.The regular Saudi Army had deployed infantry battalions to defend the cities, along with a heavy contingent of SANG forces and Ministry of the Interior troops, but the government had thrown open the doors to foreigners willing to fight and die in the defence of the Holy City.They were poorly armed and barely willing to obey orders; indeed, several hundred had insisted on going out to confront the Iraqis as they deployed.The Iraqis had scythed them down with ease.The only protection they had against American and Iraqi air power was the Iraqi reluctance to use heavy weapons inside the Holy City.He doubted that that protection would last very long.He looked over towards the council, which was still debating some of the finer points of Islamic law and trying to apply them to their situation.Their delaying tactics – deliberately or otherwise – had prevented him from either sending reinforcements to Jeddah or pulling out the defenders before the Iraqis blocked their escape.Parts of Jeddah might still be under his control, but they weren't the parts that mattered.and, with the port in their hands, the Iraqis could rush in reinforcements from the sea.He’d issued what orders he could, yet he knew that it was too little, too late.The Iraqis held the whip hand now, at least until they tried to take the city directly.“Fetch my driver,” he ordered his aide.There was no point in waiting with the council, not until they came to some consensus.and they’d probably still be debating by the time the Iraqis stormed the building.“I'm going on a tour of the defences.”***Fareed Ackbar was a patient man – but then, an impatient man did not become a master sniper.The team – the shooter and the spotter – had reached their destination quickly, after they’d slipped into the city, knowing that no one would dare to challenge them.They had, after all, authorisation from the Black Prince himself.The fact that Prince Mukhtar would have been very surprised to discover that he had issued the authorisation was neither here nor there; he was the Black Prince and his orders were not to be questioned.Fareed had been rather surprised by just how easy it had been.Or perhaps it wasn't that surprising, he reflected, as they waited for their target.There were so many competing groups in Mecca that the leaders had to be trying hard to avoid friction, knowing that it could lead to bloodshed.There were representatives from several known terrorist groups, including three that hated each other more than they hated the Americans, and fighters from a dozen countries.The leaders of the defence had to be having real problems getting everyone praying in the same direction, let alone fighting according to a single plan.He ran his hand along the barrel of his weapon.His Dragunov sniper rifle was warm to the touch.His friends had teased him about it, ever since he had picked it up on the streets of Iraq, and urged him to get a more modern rifle, but he had the Dragunov for years and they had been through much together.Getting ammunition was a pain in the ass, as the Americans would say, but it was worthwhile.He had been on the verge of retirement when the mission had come up and he had begged for the opportunity.Realising one of his father’s dreams meant more to him than he liked to admit, even now, years after he had started out on his road through life.A very long strange road, he thought, remembering growing up as a Cairo native, stealing to keep himself alive.He had left the fetid, crowded slums of his home and travelled far, finding a new homeland, a new life and a renewed faith to believe in.And, along the way, the boy who had never touched a rifle became a master of the long kill.Moussa Khan, his spotter, twitched and pointed.An observer might not have noticed that either man had moved, but this team had been together for several years.They'd worked out a secret body language between them.An outsider might have called it telepathy, yet any sniper pair would have understood instinctively.Fareed smiled, without moving his lips.The target had entered the firing zone.Three vehicles, all civilian in origin, were moving towards the outer defences of the city [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.“Let me make one thing clear,” one of the men said.His Iraqi accent was very strong.“We have had experience in breaking men who thought they could not be broken, for everyone breaks eventually.We will record everything you tell us and verify it.If you decide to lie to us, we will find out about it and hurt you.Do you understand me?”Mushad nodded desperately, unable to speak.“Excellent,” the second interrogator said.“If you cooperate with us, you will eventually be released back to your family and your normal life.If you refuse to cooperate.well, trust me, there is always room for one more in the mass graves.”The first interrogator leaned forward.“Now,” he said.“Tell us everything you know about the defenders of Mecca.”***Colonel Abdul Al-Sultan scowled as he looked down at the map.Unlike most of the officers appointed to the defence of Mecca, he did have a fairly complete military education, with time spent in training centres in America and Britain.He even had time spent in Iraq, openly with American forces and covertly with some of the Sunni resistance fighters who had opposed the American plan for their country.Unfortunately, he was not in sole command of the defence of Mecca.The Saudi Government had appointed a council of learned men to lead the defence and he was supposed to take their orders.It would have helped if the council had included men skilled in the art of war.Mecca and Medina were defended heavily, but not all of the defenders could be trusted to follow orders.The regular Saudi Army had deployed infantry battalions to defend the cities, along with a heavy contingent of SANG forces and Ministry of the Interior troops, but the government had thrown open the doors to foreigners willing to fight and die in the defence of the Holy City.They were poorly armed and barely willing to obey orders; indeed, several hundred had insisted on going out to confront the Iraqis as they deployed.The Iraqis had scythed them down with ease.The only protection they had against American and Iraqi air power was the Iraqi reluctance to use heavy weapons inside the Holy City.He doubted that that protection would last very long.He looked over towards the council, which was still debating some of the finer points of Islamic law and trying to apply them to their situation.Their delaying tactics – deliberately or otherwise – had prevented him from either sending reinforcements to Jeddah or pulling out the defenders before the Iraqis blocked their escape.Parts of Jeddah might still be under his control, but they weren't the parts that mattered.and, with the port in their hands, the Iraqis could rush in reinforcements from the sea.He’d issued what orders he could, yet he knew that it was too little, too late.The Iraqis held the whip hand now, at least until they tried to take the city directly.“Fetch my driver,” he ordered his aide.There was no point in waiting with the council, not until they came to some consensus.and they’d probably still be debating by the time the Iraqis stormed the building.“I'm going on a tour of the defences.”***Fareed Ackbar was a patient man – but then, an impatient man did not become a master sniper.The team – the shooter and the spotter – had reached their destination quickly, after they’d slipped into the city, knowing that no one would dare to challenge them.They had, after all, authorisation from the Black Prince himself.The fact that Prince Mukhtar would have been very surprised to discover that he had issued the authorisation was neither here nor there; he was the Black Prince and his orders were not to be questioned.Fareed had been rather surprised by just how easy it had been.Or perhaps it wasn't that surprising, he reflected, as they waited for their target.There were so many competing groups in Mecca that the leaders had to be trying hard to avoid friction, knowing that it could lead to bloodshed.There were representatives from several known terrorist groups, including three that hated each other more than they hated the Americans, and fighters from a dozen countries.The leaders of the defence had to be having real problems getting everyone praying in the same direction, let alone fighting according to a single plan.He ran his hand along the barrel of his weapon.His Dragunov sniper rifle was warm to the touch.His friends had teased him about it, ever since he had picked it up on the streets of Iraq, and urged him to get a more modern rifle, but he had the Dragunov for years and they had been through much together.Getting ammunition was a pain in the ass, as the Americans would say, but it was worthwhile.He had been on the verge of retirement when the mission had come up and he had begged for the opportunity.Realising one of his father’s dreams meant more to him than he liked to admit, even now, years after he had started out on his road through life.A very long strange road, he thought, remembering growing up as a Cairo native, stealing to keep himself alive.He had left the fetid, crowded slums of his home and travelled far, finding a new homeland, a new life and a renewed faith to believe in.And, along the way, the boy who had never touched a rifle became a master of the long kill.Moussa Khan, his spotter, twitched and pointed.An observer might not have noticed that either man had moved, but this team had been together for several years.They'd worked out a secret body language between them.An outsider might have called it telepathy, yet any sniper pair would have understood instinctively.Fareed smiled, without moving his lips.The target had entered the firing zone.Three vehicles, all civilian in origin, were moving towards the outer defences of the city [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]