Chapter Seven
February 23—7:05 P.M. 734 miles off the SomaliCoast, Indian Ocean
For an hour the supertanker had altered it course and tried to outrun the approaching jet powered craft.
Mahdi lifted the binoculars to his eyes in time to see the crew members running to and fro on the deck like drowning ants. He smiled.
Come to me little one.
I am the master of the seas—lord of all I survey.
I claim a bounty on all those who pass here
And it is your turn to pay.
“Admiral” Mahdi and the Somali Marines boarded the helpless French flagged supertanker Limburg carrying nearly four-hundred-thousand barrels of crude from Iran to Spain.
The double-hulled vessel once called the Maritime Jewel had been attacked several years before by an explosives-laden dinghy that rammed the starboard side of the tanker and detonated. It caught fire and lost ninety-thousand barrels of oil into the sea. It was never certain; however it was attributed to Al Qaeda.
Mahdi had his “Marines” gather the crew on the deck and pointed a Millennium PT145 pistol to the captain’s head. There was a language problem that Mustafa had learned to overcome by snarling and shouting like a crazed killer all the while pushing his victims around without much regard. On occasion he would play Russian roulette when the captain needed persuasion. If it didn’t work on the captain it always worked when he threatened to kill a crew member.
The Iranians are an easy prey. They are a spineless lot. He felt the hate—the rage coming over him. His hatred for the Iranians knew no bounds. He would like to shoot them all and dump the bodies overboard and watch while they were torn to pieces by the sharks. He shook it off as he always did. His men counted on him to maintain a cool demeanor and he would not let them down today.
There was no need for games. He carried a set of directions for ransom printed in several languages and presented it to the captain who was on his knees begging for his life while the crewmembers looked on.
“لا مهاجمتي! “he cried. Terror filled his eyes.
Mustafa smiled and pointed the pistol to the deck. “That is enough. I think we have an understanding,” he growled. “Let’s call your boss and see if he thinks you are worth three million American dollars today.”
He cast his eyes across the bow at the glimmering waters of the Indian Ocean and felt his heart at peace. Allah shines upon me today. He offered the ancient silent prayer known to all Muslims. There is no God but Allah and Muhammad is his prophet.
~*~
Reuters’ News Service:
On February 23 it was reported by the BBC that a column of 150 Ethiopian military vehicles, including armored personnel carriers, had crossed the border town of Dolo Odo into Somalia. They appeared to be headed toward Baidoa advancing within 80 km of the town. However, the Ethiopian government denied that its forces had entered Somalia.
***
February 24—11:00 A.M Baidoa Grain Warehouse 159 miles north of Mogadishu
This is going quite well. Many seem to understand what the Russians have offered. Allah be praised.
Prime Minister Sharmarke addressed the assembly of representatives that sat on folding chairs in the abandoned grain warehouse.
There was no grain.
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Armageddon: 2013
Mystery / Thriller. . .The Day Iran set off the WMD. . . . . . . . . . . . . A half-billion would die before it was over. . . . . . Some said that Admiral Mustafa Mahdi was the most ruthless man in history, others said a savior. He was a man who unde...
